The King
by Doctor S.H.Winchester
Summary: Something weird is happening to the things Sam and Dean hunt. Something weird is happening to the energies monitored by the Doctor. Something weird is happening to the cases Sherlock and John take on. The Doctor brings them together, not knowing the scale of what exactly was about to happen...
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

John Watson walked down the streets, breathing in the crisp autumn air. It a very nice Wednesday in September and the air was ripe with the chill that was coming. Baker Street wasn't crowded; it was too early for school to be out and there were very few people taking walks down the road. He walked towards his and Sherlock's apartment. Just as he reached the door and was about to walk in, John noticed something out of the corner of his eye. There was something at the end of the street, opposite of the way he had just come.  
John looked around. There was no one else who seemed interested in the end of the street. John walked a little way towards the object. As he walked towards it, it was revealed to be a tall, blue, box with something written on it. As he neared, John read out the words POLICE PUBLIC CALL BOX written on the top. As soon as he read this, John stopped in his tracks. "Well, it's about time," he breathed.  
John turned around and practically ran back to the flat. Slowing enough to walk up the stairs without making enough noise as to disturb Mrs. Hudson, John walked into the room where some of the greatest people he had ever known were all gathered. There were four people in the room in total. Sitting down where he usually did, was Sherlock. Dressed in a suit-_thank God, he was still in his robe when I left,_ thought John-he was holding his violin, absently plucking at it occasionally. Standing by the window was another tall man, this one with shorter brown hair and a sandy coat with his usual bow tie around his neck. A redheaded woman was leaning against the wall with a sandy short haired man standing next to her.  
"What's going on?" John asked as he entered the room.  
Sherlock turned to him. "Ah, John, you're back. There's been an interesting turn of events," he said, gesturing to his companions.  
The Doctor turned from the window. "John! Great to see you! It's been a while, hasn't it? You haven't changed at all! Well, your hair is a bit different, you're growing a bit of a beard I see, but other than that, it's the same John Watson we all know and love!"  
"Yes, hello, Doctor, it has indeed been a while, great to see you. Hello, Amy, Rory." John said as the Doctor clapped him on the shoulder.  
Rory grinned and waved, as Amy walked over to give him a hug. "It is great to see you again," she said, her Scottish accent pronounced to John after not hearing it for too long.  
The Doctor and Sherlock watched all of this. "Well, now that we've gotten the pleasantries out of the way, to business. John, remember the cases we were investigating?" Sherlock asked him.  
"Yeah, the poor chaps who were apparently used in some sort of ritual," John remembered, thinking about the bodies they had been shown by Molly. They had been completely tortured, their bodies scarred and torn. There had been a strange emptiness in their eyes that had bothered John, however. Different from the usual vacancy of death, this was much colder and much more sinister.  
"Exactly. The Doctor here seems something is going on that is much bigger than a couple of Satanic enthusiasts looking for a thrill," Sherlock said, his tone making it clear he didn't agree with their friend.  
The Doctor didn't seem to notice. "I've been monitoring the general area for strange activity," he explained. "I was told something was going to happen, so I've been keeping an eye out. Recently however, the levels of energy have been fluctuating. Something very wrong is happening, and I thought I should stop by and see what's been going on. Besides, Amy wanted to stop by and see the boys from 221B again."  
John moved to the chair across from Sherlock and sat down. "What have you found out?" he asked.  
Sherlock spoke this time. The disdain and contempt was clear in his voice. "The Doctor thinks that all the energy here is indeed Satanic, and that someone here is dealing with demons and creating some sort of monster with these people. I assume whoever is doing these needs their souls, as that is what demons are, twisted souls."  
The Doctor straightened. "You may not like the idea, Sherlock, but I've never seen this before and it's worrying me. The energies are like something I encountered on a planet that was hovering before a black hole. There was something very evil there, and the energy readings are more or less the same, so I thought it would be wise to check it out. You're clever; you'd think you'd be a little more open-minded given who you know and what you've seen."  
Sherlock opened his mouth to reply, but John interrupted him. "So, someone is dealing with demons, and you thought we were the people to come to?" he asked. "As you can see, we're not the right people, I'm sorry, Doctor."  
"Ah ha!" The Doctor brightened. "That's just it! I'm here for your help, but not in that way. I happen to know the perfect people for the job. Where you come in, my friends, is that I think we will need your skills somewhere at some time. Who knows what we might come across? Plus, Amy and Rory insisted you come along for another adventure." The Doctor grinned. "So, what do you say?"  
"Brilliant!" John exclaimed. He looked at Sherlock.  
Sherlock looked back at him for a moment, then said: "Well, it would help the case," he mused. "So, I'll agree. Also, John would never forgive me if I didn't."  
"Brilliant!" Rory and Amy exclaimed. The Doctor jumped up. "Wonderful! Well, no time to waste, you won't need anything, we can just head out. Come along Ponds and friends!"  
The Doctor bounded out of the room, Rory and Amy close on his heels. John hurriedly followed; casting a look behind him to make sure Sherlock was behind him. They headed outside, with John and Sherlock grabbing their coats before heading out. A cab drove past them, carrying a whole family in the backseat. John watched them turn the corner before heading towards the police box that was such a welcome sight.  
John entered the TARDIS, looking around as he did so. Even though he had traveled with the Doctor before, the bigger-on-the-inside took a little getting used to, especially for someone like John, who used to be practical and never believed it such things as fate, aliens, and demons. Then he had met the Doctor one day with Sherlock, and that whole way of thinking had been turned completely upside down. The Doctor himself was standing around the console in the middle of the room. Sherlock was moving to stand beside, most likely to try to figure out how to pilot it. Amy and Rory were standing back, watching them. As he entered, Rory looked up and gestured for him to join them.  
"Hey, been a long time," Rory greeted him as John walked over.  
"Too long," Amy agreed.  
"Definitely. How've you been? Last I time I saw you was after you guys came across the Dalek asylum, which you still have to tell me about. What have you been up to since then?" John inquired.  
Rory sighed. "Not much, been trying to keep a low profile in our normal lives while still hanging out with the Doctor. Not as easy as you might think," he chuckled.  
Amy rolled her eyes. "He keeps somehow taking us several days after we left, despite double checking something or other. We generally walk into some nosy neighbor wondering where we go off too so often."  
"We currently have an uncle who we are very close to who is feeling generous after our marriage, despite that being a little bit ago. He insists on taking various trips around the world," Rory said.  
John chuckled. "And when they ask where you've been?"  
"This uncle used to work for MI6 and is very paranoid," Amy said, winking. "He's very paranoid, and therefore swears us to secrecy in case someone is after him or something like that. We have to humor him, naturally."  
John shook his head. "Must be fun to handle."  
"You have no idea," Rory groaned. "I swear, they write down what we say and memorize so they remember it better than we do."  
John chuckled again. "You can't mean that. There isn't really people that nosy?"  
They just looked at him. "Incredible," John said.  
The three of them turned to observe Sherlock studying the Doctor's every moment with a determined look in his eye. The Doctor, flying his ship, had a small smile on his lips. John was fairly sure that he was adding in some extra moment here and there, just to throw Sherlock off.  
"You know anything about whoever we're going to find?" John asked the couple.  
"Not much," Rory said. "Just that there are three of them. Two of them brothers called the Winchesters, and the other a close friend who assists them and gets assisted in return."  
"Yeah, The Doctor hasn't been saying much. He keeps insisting it'll ruin the surprise if he tells us everything," Amy sighed.  
"It would!" The Doctor exclaimed from by the console.  
"Well after what we've been through, I'd say surprises are something we're not that fond off. Especially ones that you find exciting!" Amy threw at him.  
"Oh, come on, you know you love surprises. And mine are so much more surprising than regular surprises!" The Doctor said, grinning a broad grin.  
The look on Rory's face said to John that they had this argument before. He himself hid a grin, as there was really no arguing with The Doctor once he had his mind set on something. Much like Sherlock, only with Sherlock it was pretty much all the time. He had never met someone more stubborn than the consulting detective, except perhaps his sister when she wanted something.  
The TARDIS jerked to a stop, throwing her occupants forward a little. John was jerked out of his thoughts as he grabbed onto the rail that was around the platform. The familiar screeching sound that announced the TARDIS was heard. There was a jolt, and then everything was still. The Doctor strode towards the door and poked his head out. "Oh dear," John heard him say.  
"What is it now?" Amy asked warily.  
"We're in the right place, but we seem to be a little late. They've already left," The Doctor said, pulling his head back in.  
"So, how are we going to catch them?" John asked.  
The Doctor looked at him. "Why, the normal way! We'll find them ourselves, how hard can it be?"  
Rory and Amy shared a look, while Sherlock just remained silent. John himself followed Sherlock's example and said nothing.  
"Doctor," Rory spoke up at last. "How are we going to find them? On foot? We don't have a vehicle."  
The Doctor hesitated for a moment. "Of course we'll walk! It's good exercise, there's nothing wrong with a nice walk before going out to save the world again!" he exclaimed.  
The rest of the group looked at each. Then, realizing there was really no point in refusing, they all started to walk out the door. When he stepped outside of the time traveling police box, John took a long look at his surroundings. They were somewhere unfamiliar, though granted, that could be anywhere. There were lots and lots of trees along the road, which was paved but not much else had been done to keep it in driving shape. It was a clear day, and you could smell the great outdoors. It didn't take a detective to know they weren't in London anymore.  
"Where are we?" Rory asked.  
The Doctor walked to the front of the group. "My friends, welcome to the land of the free and the home of the brave," he said, swinging around and spreading his arms around. "America."

******  
_This is going to hurt in the morning,_ Sam thought, tending to the slice up along his arm. Dean was driving the Impala back to their motel, insisting on getting back to their room before doing more than wrapping his own wounds. Sam checked the rear view mirror. Castiel wasn't there with them at the moment; he had said there was something he needed to check into before vanishing as they walked back to the car after their latest case. Sam shook his head. Cas had a habit of vanishing and disappearing, but he had lately been spending more time with them. He wasn't sure what to think of them. Cas said that he wanted to simply hang out with them, instead of coming only if he needed something or, more often, they needed something from him. That was fine with Sam; he liked Cas a lot, and so he didn't mind his company.  
Sam had noticed that Dean's everlasting bad mood had started to lift as Cas had started to join them more and more. That was a nice change. Dean's constant state of agitation had set him and Sam at odds more than once, so it was nice to get a break from fighting. As they turned a corner, Sam glanced back where they had come, just to make sure that nothing nasty was coming after them. The latest job had been a couple of werewolves that had been feeding on the town, and while Dean and Sam had killed them all, he wanted to make sure that nothing was following them. As they turned, Sam thought he caught a glimpse of something that was in the shape of one of those older telephones booths, the kind that someone might find in England or perhaps in a movie.  
Sam wondered about it for a moment, then dismissed it. There hadn't been anything like that when they pulled up earlier, and nothing as they had gotten into the car. There was no way anyone could have put a telephone box while they were driving for a few seconds. Sam turned back to look out the windshield. "You know," he said hesitantly. "This sticks to the pattern I've been noticing."  
Dean glanced at him. "Yeah? And what pattern is that?" he said.  
"The creatures are gathering in large groups. I mean, it was the werewolves here, the shifters back in Wyoming, and then the wendigo before that," Sam said. "It's as if the creatures out there are gathering together for some reason."  
Dean snorted. "I doubt that, Sammy. The monsters aren't that smart, otherwise they would have teamed up against hunters a long time ago. What's changed in the past couple of years that they would suddenly be gathering together?"  
Sam didn't say anything. He didn't have to. Lucifer rising, Crowley becoming King of Hell after they stopped the Apocalypse, Cas letting the Leviathans loose on the world, then Dean going to Purgatory with him. So much had happened in the past years, though none seemed to have been what would have sparked such activity. Sam pushed it out of his mind. Maybe he was over thinking everything. Maybe it felt unnatural that there nothing planning on destroying the world, so he looked for anything to signal that something was wrong.  
"Yeah, maybe you're right," he muttered.  
"Of course I'm right," Dean said. "You keep forgetting that I'm the oldest and the senior hunter here, therefore I'm generally right."  
"Sure, Dean," Sam said, but there was a smile on his face, and Dean's as well.  
Sam turned to look out the window again. He rubbed at his wound absently, stopping when he accidentally pushed on it, causing the wound to throb even more than before. As he looked up, Sam thought he saw someone standing on the side of the road, but when he looked back, there was no one there.  
They pulled into the motel. Dean parked the car in the spot outside their room, then climbed out, wincing. Sam looked at him as he got out. "You shouldn't have waited, we could have taken care of that at the road," he pointed out.  
"Yes, Dr. House," Dean snapped. "However, I prefer to make sure that I clean the wound right with the right equipment with the right steps, instead of rushing around like you do." Sam held up his hands in defense as they walked to the door.  
Sam opened the door and dropped their gear on one of the beds. The motel wasn't anything special this time around, brown walls and carpet, two beds that had seen better days. Dean headed into the small bathroom after grabbing the right equipment that he would need. Sam sat at the table and opened his laptop. He took out his cellphone and dialed Garth Fitzgerald IV and got his voicemail.  
"Hey, Garth, it's Sam. We're back at the motel. Nothing that bad, just a couple of werewolves. If you're not busy, could you do me a favor? How many times have the things we hunt actually gather together in the past? I've been noticing a pattern here, but I'm sure it's nothing. Just in case, could you look into it? Thanks." Sam ended the call and turned back to the computer. He went to the internet and started to look up that telephone box he had seen as they were leaving the woods.  
Dean walked into the room and came to stand by him. "Jeez, man, I'm eager to kill as many of these things as you, but we haven't been home five minutes and you're already looking into the next case?"  
Sam looked up. "I'm looking up demonic activities all over the country. I think there's something here, Dean. A lot of possessions and non-demonic activities are all concentrated in various areas all over the country."  
"So maybe they're using the same hunting grounds, doesn't mean there's a huge plot going on." Dean walked over to the mini-fridge. "Aw, come on. We're out." He stood up and walked to the door, grabbing the keys. "I'll head out to the store; want me to grab you anything?"  
Sam shook his head, distracted by what he was seeing. Dean walked out, and Sam heard the sound of the Impala being turned out, then being driven out of the parking lot. Sam closed his laptop and went to lie down on his bed. He glanced over at the clock on the dresser: 5:00 am. Perhaps he could catch a couple hours of sleep before they had to leave. Sam debated on waiting for Dean to come back with the beer, but before he could decide, he heard a sound outside the window.  
Sam froze, listening. He heard it again, this time more clearly. Definitely footsteps. They walked past the room, and Sam relaxed slightly. Then he heard them again, this time they walked by and stopped at the room. Sam sat up slowly, reaching for his gun. There was no way Dean was back yet. He saw movement out of the corner of his and eye and saw there were shadows in front of the window. Thankfully, the blinds were shut. Sam got up quietly, moving to an angle not direct from the door and raised his gun.  
The door burst open. Sam prepared to fire, but someone shouted: "Wait! Don't shoot!" The first person in, a short man with short hair, also had a gun, so Sam wasn't sure who the shouting man was talking to. He sound found out. A tall man pushed his way through and put his hands up to the both of them. "We're all friends here," the man said.  
Sam didn't move his gun an inch, and neither did the other man. The second man sighed. "John, lower the gun. Why you even brought it in, I have no idea. You know I dislike weapons," the man said disapprovingly.  
The first man-John-glanced at him, then at Sam, then slowly began to lower his gun. He put it back in his coat, the put his hands up and stepped back, allowing the rest of the party to come in. Sam watched as three more people entered the room.  
"What the hell is going on here?" Sam demanded.  
The last person in the room, a good looking redhead, shut the door once she was clear. Sam didn't move an inch, wondering why he didn't just fire at them, as they were obviously up to something. There were five of them in total. Sam figured based on their accents that they were English, though the woman was Scottish. John, the shouting man, another man who was tall compared to the rest of them, but Sam was about four inches taller than; another man with short light hair, and the redhead.  
"Shall we introduce ourselves?" said the no-longer-shouting man cheerfully. "I'm the Doctor, that's John, Sherlock," the tall man nodded, "Rory, and last but not least Amy. Now, that's settled, put the gun down, Sam, that's a good lad."  
Sam blinked. "How do you know my name?" he asked, though he did start to lower his gun.  
"Oh, I know a good amount about you. You, and your brother as well, and your special friend," the man called the Doctor winked at him. "Now, where are they? It's time we have a proper chat, don't you think?"  
The woman, Amy, walked further into the room, at the protesting of the man, Rory. Sam watched as she went and looked into the bathroom, came back out, and took a good look around. "Wow, I would hate to have to stay in a dump like this," she said.  
"Ssshhh, Amy!" the Doctor scolded. "I'm sure the people here work very hard and would not like to hear you say that!"  
Amy rolled her eyes and muttered something about what she thought the people here worked hard at. Sam had to smile, but then his attention turned back to the men who were standing in front of him. "You didn't answer my question. What are you doing here?" Sam repeated.  
"Why, we're here looking for you!" the Doctor said. He talked a lot for the group, Sam noted. The others seemed used to it, none of them tried to get a word in besides Amy.  
"I'm sorry?" Sam said.  
"We walked several miles and into this horrible excuse for anything inhabitable looking for you and your brother, not because we want to," said Sherlock irritably.  
John shot him a look, which Sherlock pointedly ignored. There was an awkward silence. Sam cleared his throat. "Okay, but why are you looking for me and why should I trust you?"  
"Well, for starters, we didn't shoot you when we came in," said the Doctor brightly. Sam acknowledged the point. They certainly had the advantage on him and could have gotten off a shot or two, but Sam had faith that he would have been able to get out of the situation. None of them looked like fighters except John, and Sam was at least a foot taller than him, so it wouldn't be a huge challenge.  
"All right, but why are you here? Why are you looking for me and my brother?" Sam asked, purposefully not mentioning Cas; in case he heard and decided to come down to investigate himself.  
"As I'm sure you're aware, there have been a lot of activity around here recently, and in other areas across the globe as well. The things you and your brother hunt haven't been acting normally, have they?" the Doctor said.  
Sam hesitated. "How do you know...?" An idea sparked him. "Are you guy's hunters?" They didn't look it, but he'd known hunters that looked the complete opposite of the job, namely Garth.  
Rory finally spoke up. "No, not that I know what that is. I think it's finally time you told us what's going on, Doctor," he said, pointedly looking at the Doctor.  
Sam raised his eyebrows. "Wait, you don't even know why you're here? You just came here, what, on blind faith?" he asked.  
They nodded. "It's something that happens when you're friends with the Doctor," John said ruefully.  
"Uh huh," Sam said.  
The Doctor drew his attention just then. He had taken out something that looked like a screwdriver except it was glowing and making a strange noise, and was waving it all around the room. He looked at it, and tsked under his breath. "That's odd."  
"What?" Amy looked at him worriedly. "What's wrong, Doctor?" added Rory.  
They all looked at him. "I'm not sure. There's something wrong here, but I don't know what it is..." The Doctor looked at his screwdriver in confusion. Sam was looking at him with the same expression. "What is that?" he asked.  
The Doctor ignored him, concentrating. Rory and Amy walked over to Sam and began what would be the weirdest explanation he would hear in his life, and he would hear some pretty some weird things. They told him about the TARDIS, the sonic screwdriver, the Doctor, everything. Sam listened, enraptured. He couldn't believe what they were saying, but he was seeing parts of it as well. "Wow, that's pretty awesome," Sam said, impressed.  
The Doctor straightened, a grin on his face. "Well, thank you, I am a bit impressive," he said, slightly cocky.  
Sam opened his mouth to ask another question when suddenly the door opened. Dean walked in, carrying a six pack in one hand along with a plastic bag in the other. As soon as he saw the visitors, Dean's gun was instantly in his hand and up leveled at the nearest target. Sherlock moved back slightly, and Dean sighted John instead, who started to reach for his gun.  
"Dean!" Sam shouted. He moved towards his brother, reaching for the gun. "It's okay, these people aren't enemies."  
"Then what the hell are they doing here?" Dean demanded.  
The Doctor opened his mouth, but Amy elbowed him in the side and he said nothing, besides "ow".  
"They're here because the Doctor here saw the same pattern I did, how the creatures out there are gathering and apparently there's strange energies around here," Sam explained.  
Dean looked at him. "Do you know how crazy you sound? And who is this Doctor? Doctor who?"  
"I know it sounds kind of nuts, but Dean, we live crazy. And I think these guys are being truthful," Sam pleaded.  
Dean looked at his brother. "Damn it," he muttered. He lowered his gun, and everyone visibly relaxed.  
The Doctor looked around. "I don't see why everyone needs to have guns," he complained. "There are ways to get places without the assistance of firearms."  
Dean looked at him. "I don't know who you are, Doctor, but trust me. The guns make the job a heck of a lot easier. Though a medical person like yourself might find that a bit hard to understand," he said bitingly.  
Sam sighed inwardly, but he knew there was no way Dean was not going to be Dean and be polite to people he didn't trust. Dean put his gun down, though it was still in arm's reach. "So, why is a bunch of strangers in our motel room, and a better answer than just 'monsters are gathering,'" he said, glancing at them all in turn.  
"The Doctor said you would be of assistance to us," Sherlock said.  
"Is that so," Dean said. He turned to the Doctor. "Now, I'm all for helping people and all, but how is it that you know of us and think we could help?"  
"Well, you're hunters, aren't you?" the Doctor said. "And what do hunters usually do? Hunt. We could use a little bit of hunting stuff right now."  
"Uh huh. Doesn't explain how you know about us," Dean said.  
"Dean-" Sam cut in.  
Dean rounded on him. "What, Sam? These people are total strangers, they somehow know about us and what we do, won't give me a straight answer and you're treating them like they're our new best friends!"  
Sam glared at him. "Well, what am I supposed to do, Dean? They don't mean us any harm; they seem to have a clue about something going on that I thought was a bit weird, what was I supposed to do? Throw them out?"  
"Yes! Well, maybe. I don't know, not trust them completely," Dean said. He glared at Sam, and Sam knew that he had him.  
There was a pause. "All right, now that's sorted," the Doctor said cheerfully. "How about we find out what's wrong with the room, shall we?"  
Dean glanced at him. "There's something wrong with the room?"  
"Yes, and I'm not sure what. The reading's a bit off," the Doctor said, tapping his screwdriver.  
Dean's eyes narrowed, but then he turned to Sam. "Sam, did you do a check when I left?" he asked.  
Sam's eyes met his. Almost the same minute, Rory began to cough. "Rory!" Amy exclaimed, moving over to his side.  
"Crap," Dean and Sam said. They moved instantly, shoving anyone who was in their way out, and began turning the room inside out.  
"What's going on?" the Doctor said, looking panicked as Rory began to cough up blood. He scanned him desperately. "He's got the same readings as the room!" he exclaimed.  
"There's probably a hexbag," Sam spared the time to say, while ripping apart his bed.  
"Look for a small bag that's hidden somewhere out of place, generally hard to find and has the look of evil about it," Dean said grimly. Neither of them said anything, but they were thinking that they needed to find that hexbag and fast. Rory was already on his knees. The Doctor scanned the room inch by inch, while Sherlock and John took the side of the room opposite Sam and Dean.  
"Hurry!" Amy begged as she held onto Rory, desperately turning her head in search of the hexbag.  
Sam overturned the bed completely, before moving onto the dresser. There was nothing there. Dean had moved on to looking for hollow areas in the wall. There was still nothing. "Rory!" Amy sobbed. His eyes were beginning to close, still coughing up his own blood.  
Then: "Here!" John shouted. He had the small bag in his hand. He tossed to Sam, who caught it and the lighter that Dean threw at him and lit the bag on fire. As it was consumed, the color returned to Rory's face and the coughing fits died. Amy buried her face into his shoulder. The Doctor clapped a hand on Rory's shoulder, and then went to John.  
"Well," Sherlock said. They all turned to him. "I suppose you two have some skill after all."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Amy watched Rory out of the corner of her eye. Most of the color had returned to his face, but he was still a little uneasy in his steps. They all had left the room, Dean and Sam grabbing everything they needed before leading them out. Sam was listening to his mobile, or cell phone, as he did Dean's car was parked towards the entrance as the lots closer had all been filled as the night got into the really late hours of the night. She didn't want to think about what was going on behind closed doors.  
The rest of the group had gathered at the car, and Amy joined them, choosing to stand between Rory and Sherlock. Dean was leaning against his car, with Sam standing in front of his brother, trying to convince him to join with their little group. The Doctor and the rest were standing a little ways away, trying not to appear as if they were eavesdropping. Amy put a hand in Rory's, listening to the argument between the two brothers.  
"I don't know, Sam, this seems awfully strange. I mean, how long have you known these people? Ten, fifteen minutes? And all of a sudden you want to be best buddies?" Dean was saying.  
Sam sighed. "Look, Dean, I know it's different, but I have a strange feeling going on and I think that these people can help."  
Dean snorted. "Help with what? We don't know the first thing about them! We don't know what they do, we don't know why they're here and how they found us, and we're certainly not going to team up with anybody from the street just because they claim to have the same bad feeling as you do!"  
"Come on, Dean. Monsters aren't the only things that are gathering. I called Garth, and he just got back to me saying that not only are demons are on the rise too, there have some "miracles" going on as well, making it seem as if both sides are rising. There are a ton of them in Sioux Falls alone, it's almost triple the normal numbers, demons and angels." Sam argued.  
"So demons are rising again. That doesn't mean anything! They've done it before, and we'll send them right back to where they came from," Dean said stubbornly, ignoring anything to do with the angels. "I still don't think we should trust these people. Why should we? They aren't hunters, that's obvious, so how do they know about hunters?"  
The Doctor popped over. "Ah, yes, I can help with that," he said. Sam and Dean both looked at him.  
"That's great, Doc, but we're trying to have a conversation here," Dean said.  
"That I couldn't help but overhear, and you're having trust issues, well, I think we should probably fix that," the Doctor said brightly. He grinned. "So, why don't we answer any questions that you have, as a show of good faith?"  
Dean glared at him. "Why don't, as a show of good faith, you leave and not come back? Then maybe I'll consider trusting you."  
"Dean," Sam said disapprovingly.  
Dean turned back to Sam, about to say something, when he was interrupted again. This time he was interrupted by Sherlock.  
"Look, Doctor, we don't have time for this. Why don't we just do back to the TARDIS. If Sam wants to help, then he can. His brother obviously doesn't want to, so let's hurry along instead of wasting time trying to convince him."  
Dean bristled. Amy saw that despite how he was fighting, Dean was curious about what was going on. He was just too stubborn to admit it.  
"I'll come," he grumbled.  
"Fantastic!" The Doctor exclaimed. "Let's be off, shall we?"  
"Doctor, one problem," John pointed out. "Where are we going, and how are we getting there?"  
"Why, it's simple," the Doctor explained. "We'll take the TARDIS to wherever the main areas of activity are, and see what's going on. Then I'll continue to explain the plan we get there."  
"Sounds like an idea," Rory said.  
"So, where is this TARDIS?" Sam asked.  
"Oh, it's back where we landed. Where you boys were this afternoon," the Doctor said.  
Sam and Dean shared a look. "Back towards where the werewolves were camping out?"  
"Is that why you were there?" the Doctor looked uneasy. "Well, yes, then, so I suppose we should hurry?"  
Amy helped Rory as Dean called a friend called Garth to pick up and take care of his "baby" while Sam grabbed several dufflebags full of things from the back trunk. Amy watched curiously, wondering what could be in those bags. Dean came around to help his brother load the bags, and then grabbed some to carry. They turned to the Doctor.  
"Thank God it's not a far walk," Amy commented.  
"All the same, we'd better start walking," Dean said.  
They began to walk. There was a sidewalk on the side of the road, but not much else. Amy was grateful for that much. Growing up in a small town made him appreciate the smaller things in life. They'd reached the exit of the parking lot when the Doctor turned to the Winchesters. "Don't you have to pay for the room?" he asked.  
Dean shrugged. "Probably," he said. "Don't worry about it, Doc."  
"You're not going to check out? But, you're cheating the owners out of their money!" the Doctor protested.  
"Trust us, Doc, we've done a lot worse," Dean said.  
The Doctor looked at Sam, who made a half-shrug. "They have our credit card number, they'll probably charge us," he said, as an attempt to placate the Doctor.  
Dean snorted and Sam elbowed him. They were hiding something that the rest of them didn't know, but John urged them on before the Doctor could press the brothers. They soon reached the edge of the town. There was a police cruiser parked next to the side. "That doesn't look good," Rory noted as the officer got out of the car.  
The officer walked over to them. "What are you doing, if I may ask, agents?" he asked.  
Amy wrinkled her forehead in confusion. _Why does he think we're agents?_ But then she realized he wasn't referring to all to them. He was looking at the Winchesters. The rest of them he had given them a passing glance. Dean walked up to him, Sam at his side. Behind his back, Sam gave a "keep moving" gesture. "We figured out who was committing the murders, Officer Michaels. The bureau will be expecting us back," Dean was saying.  
Sherlock moved to pass the officer, but Michaels held up his hand. "Hang on, no one's going anywhere," he said.  
"Officer-" Sam started, but before he could get another word in Michael hoisted his gun directly at Sam's face, his eyes flickering to black.  
Instantly Dean had a knife in his hand, while Amy gasped at the black eyes. The rest of the group looked unsettled, but John took out his gun as well.  
"Well, this is an interesting turn of events. I wasn't told there would be so many of you," the thing smirked. "Better for me, there's more of you to kill."  
"No one's dying here except you, demon" Dean snarled.  
Sam's hand had been slowly moving towards his jacket, reaching for something. The demon looked at him. "I wouldn't take out that pretty blade of yours, unless you want there to be another hole in your skull," he said.  
The Doctor moved closer. "Now, now, there's no need to make threats," he said nervously. "Why don't we just put the guns down-"  
"Doc, there's no way that will work," Dean said. The demon was looking at the Doctor like he was crazy. Amy felt the impulse to move up beside him, defiantly.  
The demon began to chuckle. "The Winchesters with someone who seems to condone violence? It's as if Lucifer and God have decided to become best friends."  
"Well, Lucifer can't do that right now, can he?" Sam said. "He's still a little bit occupied at the moment."  
The demon's eyes narrowed, but before he could say anything Sam grabbed the gun in his face and Dean moved forward and stabbed the demon straight between the ribs. Everyone jumped back as blood came out of the wound. "Dean!" the Doctor protested.  
"I'm sorry, Doc, but there's no way to get out with clean hands while dealing with demons," Dean didn't look very apologetic.  
"We should continue in case there's any more of them," Sam said hurriedly.  
"So that was a demon," Sherlock observed.  
"What, never come across one before?" Dean said.  
"No," Sherlock replied.  
"Huh. Well, welcome to the club."  
"Dean! Sherlock! Come on!" Sam called from up ahead.  
Amy walked beside Rory, her hand ready to catch him in case he started to fall. She didn't like how he was still a bit unsteady. Amy wondered if there were any lasting effects to the witch's spell. She made a mental note to ask Dean or Sam later. As they walked, Amy looked at the two brothers. Sam was taller by a couple of inches, though Dean wasn't short in the slightest. Sam had the longer hair, while Dean's was kept short in almost a military haircut without the being that extreme. They both had guns tucked behind their back, and wore jackets and jeans. There wasn't anything extraordinary about them that would draw your attention; however there was something in their faces. Something dark, as if they have seen things more horrible than anything you could imagine.  
Dean was talking to Sam in a low voice at the head of the group. Amy couldn't hear what he was saying, but she gathered that it wasn't something that she would be a part of. Both Sam and Dean kept casting their eyes around, looking for something or keeping watch. Amy figured they were making sure there weren't any more demons or whatever else they come across. _Werewolves,_ she thought. _Werewolves were what they were hunting earlier._ Amy wondered what they looked like it real life. Probably nothing like the werewolves you see in movies or books.  
The forest seemed dark and surrounding, making Amy wish they had waited until morning. However, when the Doctor got it in his mind to move, they moved. It also gave Dean less time to change his mind in coming. Amy didn't like him necessarily, but it was still a comfort to have someone who knew what he was doing with these creatures around. There was something about him though, a haunted quality that made Amy curious. What could Dean and his brother have seen that had left them like this? With what she had just experienced, Amy could imagine how horrible it must have been.  
Sam dropped back a bit, keeping close to the group while Dean moved further up the road. Amy moved up to Sam. "Hey," she said.  
Sam looked at her, surprised. "Hey," he replied.  
"So, you guys seem like you've done this many times before," Amy said, hinting.  
Sam smiled slightly. "Yeah, we were both raised to hunt by our father," he said, a hint of a shadow passing his face as he said it.  
"Sounds like fun," she teased.  
Sam chuckled. "It honestly wasn't that bad, compared to some other lives," he said.  
"How did your dad get into the hunting life?" Amy asked.  
He hesitated. "Our mother," Sam finally said. "She was killed by a demon when I was six months old, and that drove my father into the business."  
"I'm sorry," Amy said. She's grown up without her parents, so she could understand how he felt.  
"Thanks," Sam said. He didn't continue, and Amy didn't press him further.  
They walked on in silence. John and Sherlock were talking in lowered voices at the back of the group, while Rory and the Doctor were talking about something. Amy wandered over to her husband and the Doctor. "...bad could it be?" she heard Rory ask as she walked up.  
"It could be very bad, depending on if there's someone behind it all, which there generally is," the Doctor said.  
"Great," Rory muttered.  
"What are my two favorite boys talking about?" Rory and the Doctor looked up as she came over.  
"Your husband is worrying again. This time about how bad this adventure could possibly be," the Doctor informed her.  
"Hey, it's a valid concern!" Rory protested.  
Amy kissed him affectionately. "Don't worry, it's going to be fine," she promised him. "Isn't it always?"  
"No," Rory pointed out.  
Amy smiled at him. Up ahead she heard a shout. The three of them started to walk faster, trying to see what was going on. Amy hoped it wasn't something that bad, she wanted to make good on her promise to Rory. Dean had disappeared around a turn in the road, she saw. As the rest of the group turned it, Amy saw that Dean was standing next to a man with dark hair in a brown trenchcoat and what looked to be a suit underneath with a crooked blue tie. The man was standing there talking to Dean. Amy watched as Sam ran up to the man and clapped him on the back. The man turned to him, a serious expression on his face.  
The Doctor ran up to them as well, with Rory and Amy hurrying to keep up with him. "Why, you must be Castiel!" he exclaimed.  
The man turned to him. "That is my name," he said in a gravelly voice. "I'm not sure how you came to know it." He turned to the Winchesters. "Did you tell them...?"  
Dean shook his head. "The guy just seems to know everything," he said.  
Castiel turned back to the Doctor. "Who are you?" he asked. "I've not seen you before."  
"I'm the Doctor, hello!" the Doctor said cheerfully.  
Castiel turned to the rest of the group, as by then Sherlock and John had joined them as well. "There are very many of you," he observed.  
Dean chuckled. "Don't we know it," he muttered. Amy got the feeling he was still annoyed over the way they had to leave his car behind.  
Sherlock walked over to him. "Who's this?" he asked, addressing Dean.  
"My name is Castiel. I'm an angel of the Lord," Castiel said.  
There was a silence. Amusement was on the faces of Sam and Dean, while Castiel waited. There were various looks of shock and disbelief on the faces of the rest of the group, with the exception of the Doctor, who looked excited. The Doctor took out his screwdriver and scanned Castiel, who looked confused at what he was doing. "Wait...like, an actual angel?" John asked.  
"Yes," Castiel said. "It may take a moment to process, your reactions are not unusual, but I truly am an angel."  
"I hope you're better than the last angels we came across," Amy said.  
Castiel brightened. "You've come across other angels before?"  
Amy hesitated. "In a sense. They were different from you though." Amy heard Rory snort behind her. She resisted the urge to elbow him.  
"In what way?" Castiel asked curiously.  
"They were...stone?" Amy said slowly.  
Castiel frowned. He turned back to Dean. "So, you are traveling with these people?" he asked.  
Dean nodded. The Doctor turned to them after a moment. "Castiel, why don't you join us?" he asked.  
Castiel hesitated. His gaze flew from Dean to Sam and back again. Sam smiled while Dean shrugged. Castiel turned back to the Doctor. There was a look of regret in his eyes. "I'm sorry, but I cannot take you up on your offer. There are many things going on that I have to take care of right now," he said sorrowfully.  
Dean and Sam looked unsurprised. Amy felt a twinge of disappointment; she kind of liked the guy in the trenchcoat. The Doctor looked disappointed as well. He looked down. "Yeah, I'm sure you're busy. Ah well, it was worth a shot," he said.  
Castiel looked uncomfortable. He made a move as if to pat the Doctor on the shoulder, but his arm halted mid-gesture and he dropped his arm. Castiel took a step back, then looked towards the brothers. "I should go now," he said, still looking uncomfortable. Dean nodded; Sam lifted a hand in good-bye.  
Amy was just wondering how he was expecting to go places. _Does he fly? Are there wings under his trenchcoat?_ She wondered. Amy looked back to where Castiel had been standing. There was no one there. Dean half-smiled. "He'll be back," he said. "He can't keep away from anything; his curiosity's way too strong."  
The Doctor clapped his hands together. "The TARDIS is right there," he said, pointing. "Geronimo!"  
The Doctor started to run towards the TARDIS. After a second the others started to follow. Amy ran next to Rory, laughing. She saw the Doctor snap his fingers as they ran up, and the familiar doors swung open. Amy slowed a bit, waiting for everyone else to enter first. As much as the Doctor loved when people said "it's bigger on the inside" Amy loved seeing their reactions. Sam had begun to look concerned when he saw the size of the TARDIS on the outside, and that look had gotten more intense as he saw the rest of them run into it.  
Their faces were priceless. "What the..." Dean muttered. Sam's eyebrows had shot straight up. "Well," he said.  
Amy walked past them, punching each in the shoulder as she went past. "Come on, don't just stand there in awe," she teased.  
She walked up to join the Doctor at the console. Amy watched as the brothers turned to watch the doors. They swung shut, closing with a strange sense of finality.

Dean turned slowly, taking a look at every inch of the room. "This is insane..." he muttered to himself. And he'd seen some pretty insane stuff.  
"Don't worry." Dean turned to John, who was leaning against the rail. "You'll get used to it eventually. I did, more or less."  
"And you guys travel here with the Doctor all the time?" Sam asked.  
John shook his head. "Only Amy and Rory do that," he explained. "The rest of us are just friends that come along every once in a while."  
"Huh." Dean looked at them all.  
John smiled. "You wanted answers earlier, right?"  
The brothers walked over to him. "Yeah," Dean said.  
"Well," John adjusted his position slightly, as if getting more comfortable before a long talk. "Why don't you get some of your questions out the way? Everyone else is more or less busy."  
"Thanks," Sam said. They moved to either side of him, also leaning.  
"Who are all of you guys?" Dean asked. "Besides just names, what else can you tell us?"  
"Well, I can tell you a little without violating any privacy." John considered for a moment. "Amy used to live in a small town where she grew up with Rory. They're married to each other, for a couple years now. Rory's a nurse; Amy has a perfume line that she designed. Sherlock and I share a flat in London. He's a consulting detective; I help keep track of the cases. I used to be a medical doctor in Afghanistan, then I got shot." John chuckled darkly. "Didn't seem so at the time, but that was one of the best things that could have happened to me, I suppose. Anyway, I can tell you absolutely nothing about the Doctor. The guy is as cheerful as they come, but he has a past and does not like to talk about it."  
"Huh. Interesting," Sam said.  
"And that's our merry gang," John finished. "Now, what about you two? I'm sure there's some story behind you both, with what you do and all."  
Dean decided that he liked John. The man was quiet, but he had a strength about him that Dean admired. "There's not that much to tell," he lied. Just because he liked John didn't mean he was going to spill his life story to him. He had, after all, just met him. "Our father raised to hunt the things that go bump in the night."  
"Uh huh," John didn't sound like he believed that that was all to the story. "All right. Out of curiosity, though, how on Earth did you meet an angel of the Lord?"  
Dean chucked at the memory. "Well," he began. "I was in a very bad face," Sam rolled his eyes. "And Cas helped me out of it. Apparently he liked us, so he's been helping us and we've been helping him ever since."  
John smiled. "Sounds like an interesting guy," he said.  
"You have no idea," Sam laughed. "The guy had no idea what normal social interactions were."  
"His first encounters with normal things were...interesting, let's put it," Dean laughed as well.  
John laughed with them. "I know someone like that," he said, his gaze resting on Sherlock.  
"Must be interesting to live with him," Sam noted.  
"Never bored," John smiled.  
Dean shuddered internally, imagining what it would be like to live with Cas permanently. The guy was one of his best friends and a part of his family, but living with him would be a whole new version of Hell. Dean looked around the room. "So, how large is this place anyway?"  
"No one knows," they looked up. Rory had wandered over. "The Doctor is forever getting lost, though..." Rory cleared his throat. "Anyway, the TARDIS keeps changing, so there's no way to really get a clear idea of which way leads where. Though some rooms remain the same, like the bedrooms."  
"Bedrooms?" Sam asked, incredulous.  
Rory looked at him. "Of course. Amy and I share one, no idea where the Doctor sleeps."  
"Or if he even needs to," John added.  
Rory acknowledged his point as Dean and Sam looked at each other. "Why wouldn't he need sleep?" Sam asked.  
"Well, he's not exactly human," Rory hedged.  
"What do you mean, "not exactly human"?" Dean asked warily.  
"He looks human, but he's really a Timelord," Rory explained. "Which means he's from another planet, it's how he has the TARDIS, but he's not human."  
They looked at the Timelord now, who was chatting amiably with Amy and Sherlock about something. The Doctor seemed perfectly normal, but as Dean watched him he saw something different about him, something almost ancient. As they were looking at him, the Doctor turned in their direction and caught their eye. "All right, everybody!" he called. "We need to figure out where we're going to go now."  
Everyone gathered around him at the console. Dean hung back from the rest of the group, just in case. He still didn't trust all of them, though some of them seemed like decent. Then again, he'd thought many people were decent, and they'd turn around and stab him or his brother in the back, sometimes literally. While he was there, Dean took a look at the control of the TARDIS. Dean wasn't as book smart as Sam, but he was smart. And he knew, looking at the controls, that there was no way any human could get a license on how to pilot something like this. There were dials, levers, an old TV, an old telephone, buttons, enough ways for something to go wrong that it must take someone extremely experienced to fly, Dean figured.  
Just then the Doctor began, recalling Dean's attention to him. "Sam," the Doctor said. "You were investigating the levels of activity. Where were they activating?"  
Sam thought for a moment. "There's activity in several places," he said slowly. "The first one that comes to mind is Nashville in Tennessee."  
The Doctor clapped his hands together again. "Then it's settled! We're heading to Nashville, Tennessee."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Rory watched as the Doctor turned towards the console and began to plug in the coordinates in a way that only he knew how, with the exception of his wife, River Song. No matter how hard Sherlock tried, there was no way he'd be able to figure it out, Rory knew this. Then again, it was Sherlock Holmes. If anyone could, it would be him. Glancing around, Rory saw various degrees of enthusiasm on his companion's faces. Sherlock looked uncaring; John looked interested; Sam himself looked resigned; his wife Amy looked excited, as she always did for a new adventure; Dean looked distraught, as if Nashville (or, as the Doctor had decided, a small town near Nashville that would be close enough so they could find out what's going on without heading directly into Nashville, and not too far away) was the last place he would ever want to be.  
Rory himself didn't really care. He hadn't seen many American cities, and he had never cared too, so he had never looked any of them up. He knew the really big ones, such as Washington and New York, Vegas, but beyond that he had never cared enough to pay much attention. He'd been content to stay in Leadworth, become a respected nurse, marry Amy and raise a family. However, she'd had her heart set on adventure. That would have never been her perfect life, and when she had met the Doctor, Rory had feared he'd lose her forever. Then the Doctor had allowed him to join them on their adventures, and Rory had married Amy, and here they were. That didn't bother Rory so much; as long as he was with Amy, he was happy.  
Rory had died many times during their adventures with the Doctor; he had stayed guarding the Pandorica for 2,000 years to protect Amy. All of this because he loved her. There had always been a part of him that was jealous of the Doctor, fearing that she loved him instead, that she would chose to live the life of adventure he knew that she had always wanted, chose to leave with her Raggedy Man that they had grown up talking about. Then Amy had made her choice, and she had chosen him. That act filled Rory with love and happiness even now. _That's pretty cheesy, _he thought to himself. As he watched his wife, Rory knew that no matter what, he'd be content so long as she was by his side.  
"Come along, everyone! Geronimo!" the Doctor shouted.  
Rory grabbed the railing out of habit. He knew what to expect when traveling with the Doctor. The rest were not so lucky. Dean and Sam nearly got knocked off their feet, while Sherlock and John simply stumbled before gabbing on. The TARDIS flew through time and space, while the inside of the ship rocked back and forth. There was absolute terror on Dean's face; he opened his mouth to yell something when the floor tilted again and he lost his balance. Sam was doing better, apparently more at ease with flying than his brother. Dean had grabbed onto the rail and was holding for dear life, his knuckles white.  
This continued for a little while, then the sound of the brakes became distinctive, and they slowed. Amy was laughing at the expressions on the Winchesters faces. Rory walked over to her and she slipped her hand into his.  
"That was worse than an airplane," Dean muttered as he regained his balance.  
"Come on, it's not that bad!" the Doctor said. "Though, I've never been on an airplane. Never needed to."  
"Yeah, well, they're huge metal death traps," Dean informed him.  
"I'm sure," the Doctor said, eyeing him.  
Sam was taking it much better. He apparently didn't hate airplanes as much as his brother. Rory leaned towards his wife. "We're probably going to have to expect an airplane trip now," he murmured in her ear. Amy raised her hand to her mouth to hide her laugh. The Doctor turned his eyes to them. "Now, now, let's not embarrass our guests," he said fondly.  
John was smiling openly, while Sherlock was turned away looking at the door. Dean moved hurriedly towards, with Sam following at a slower pace. Sherlock turned towards the Doctor as they approached the door. "Doctor, have you checked the reading to make sure we are indeed in a town in Tennessee?" he asked.  
Dean froze, his hand reaching towards the door handle. "Ah, yes, I was just getting to that," the Doctor said. He turned towards the reading device on the console. "We're there," he announced.  
"Thank God," Dean said, pushing open the door.  
Amy walked up to him. "Why, don't you want to go for another trip through space?"  
"Not even if you locked away the gates of Hell and threw away the key," he told her.  
Sam coughed. "Dean," he said pointedly.  
"What?" Dean said defensively. "It's a saying."  
Sam glared at him. Rory wondered what could have Sam concerned. Maybe it was sensitive to him to joke about the afterlife, given what they'd gone through. That would certainly explain it. Still, there was something in Sam's expression that made Rory think it was something more than just not liking Dean's jokes. There was no more time to wonder about it though, everyone was walking outside. Rory followed, blinking in the bright sunlight. Looking around, there wasn't anything extraordinary about the scenery.  
They were in the middle of a bright forest, full of greenery. There was a river to their right, and up ahead Rory thought he could see some log cabins. The grass was waving in the breeze that was blowing through the leaves. Up ahead, birds were chirping. Altogether a very peaceful area. So why did it feel like they were being watched by something that wasn't very peaceful? Everywhere Rory turned, he didn't see anything out of the ordinary, but he could have sworn that something knew they were here and weren't happy about it.  
He moved up to Amy. "Do you feel that?" he asked.  
Amy turned her eyes towards him. "Yeah," she whispered.  
Sherlock moved forward, casting his eyes around. "The area's been disturbed," he said. "Something dragged through here, and the branches have been moved to cover the larger tracks."  
John moved over to his side. He knelt and began to move branches away; clearing it so everyone could see what was underneath. There were two straight lines, zig-zagging across the ground, as if something heavy had been dragged. "The indentations are deep, so either something was extremely heavy, or they had dragged multiple things through here," Sherlock pointed out.  
Dean moved to take a closer look. "They look like heel prints," he said grimly.  
Amy swallowed. Rory stole a glance at the Doctor. His face was expressionless, but Rory knew that he'd be feeling anger at the thought of multiple being dragged through like garbage. Deep inside him, Rory had a pit. He somehow knew that this would be different from any other journey they'd been on, this time the stakes were higher and the danger would be greater. Therefore, he had to make sure that Amy was safe. Rory knew the Doctor hated guns, but after the demon that morning, Rory didn't want to take any chances. Perhaps not right away, but depending on how the upcoming events took place, he may have no choice.  
"Perhaps we should ask up at the houses?" Amy suggested.  
Sam shook his head. "If someone took this much care to cover their tracks, then if the people living there know about it are either involved or turn their heads the other way. Doesn't matter which one, you're still getting nowhere."  
"Can't hurt though," Rory said.  
Amy smiled at his support. Sam shrugged, his argument already made. "We shouldn't all go talk to whomever lives there. Seven people would seem a bit suspicious, especially a group like this," John pointed out.  
"How about Rory and I go check it out, the rest of you see where the tracks go," Dean suggested.  
"Hold on, we don't even know if this has anything to do with the demonic activity," Amy said, moving slightly in front of Rory protectively.  
"Not one hundred percent, but we can be fairly sure that it does," Sherlock said with more than a hint of sarcasm. Amy glared at him, but Sherlock ignored it.  
"It's all right, it'll be fine," Rory said to her. Amy turned to him, pleading in her eyes.  
Rory smiled reassuringly, but the truth was he had an uneasy feeling too. He didn't want to split up, not after what they'd discovered and there had already been something in the air when they'd arrived. But there was no way he was going to let that show, not with everyone else seemingly not being to feel it. Rory moved over to Dean, who looked at the others. "Looking for anything in particular?" he asked.  
"Anything out of the ordinary, I suppose. Usually that's a sign for something sinister going on," the Doctor said. "Come back as soon as you found something out."  
"Yes, sir," Dean said. There was a slight edge of sarcasm in his tone, but Dean moved to do what the Doctor said regardless.  
Rory fell into step with Dean. They walked towards the log cabins in the distance. Behind them, Rory could hear the sounds of more branches being moved. As they got father away, it got harder to hear what they were doing, but Rory knew that Sam and Sherlock had moved ahead to see where the tracks seemed to lead. The Doctor moved away to check where the trail came from, with John and Amy staying by the TARDIS.  
Dean walked up to the first building they came from. There was a small sign in front that read GENERAL STORE. Dean looked at it, drew in a breath, and then walked up to the door. Rory tried out the door, and finding it unlocked, walked inside with Dean right behind him. The door creaked as it swung shut behind them.  
The general store was practically empty except for the cashier and a single customer browsing around the clothing section. The cashier was a gruff, butch man who watched them the minute they walked in while at the same time never taking an eye off the other customer. Rory got the feeling that this was not a man you wanted to mess with, which is probably why he got the job. The actual store was quaint. It was made completely of wood, presumably the same kind that was outside in the forest. The store carried various supplies from food to clothing; however, it didn't have anything majorly electronic in the slightest beyond the cash register.  
Dean walked up to the man behind the counter. "Hey," he said. "Me and I my friend here-" he gestured to Rory, who moved closer. "-we're thinking of camping around here over the weekend. What's it like out here?"  
The man looked at him. "There's no camping out here," he said gruffly.  
Dean frowned. "Really? That's a bit odd, I mean there's a whole forest right out there..." he led.  
"Not for camping," the man said.  
"Then what could it possibly be for, if not camping?" Rory asked.  
Dean seemed surprised that Rory had spoken up, but he rolled with it anyway. The man didn't say anything. "What, there couldn't be anything going on out there, right?" Dean asked.  
The man glared at Dean. "You need to leave," he ordered.  
Dean looked affronted. "Aren't a couple of normal people like you allowed to ask questions anymore?" he asked, annoyance clear in his tone.  
The man didn't say anything more, just moved out from behind the counter. Rory glanced over at Dean, shaking his head slightly. Dean held his hands up in defeat. "All right, all right, big guy, we're leaving."  
The man bristled slightly, eyes narrowing. Dean chuckled, moving towards the door. Rory followed, watching him out of the corner of his eye. Just as he turned to walk out the door, his gaze fell on the other customer in the room. So fast that he couldn't be sure if it was real or not, he could have sworn that that the woman grinned, showing fangs the size of the top of his finger. Rory started, nearly crashing into Dean.  
"Whoa, watch it there," Dean said, grabbing his arm.  
"Sorry," Rory muttered.  
"What?" Dean asked, looking at him. "Did you see something?"  
Rory shook his head. "I thought I did, but I-I, I can't be sure," he stammered slightly.  
"Then what did you think you see?" Dean demanded impatiently.  
Rory took a breath. "Well, it looked she had fangs," he said.  
Dean looked at him for a second. "Keep walking, act normal," he said, starting off towards the building with a sign that read TOWN HALL.  
This building was the only building not made out of wooden logs. It instead was made out of bricks that made it look as if it was the only modern building in a colony back from the 17th century. As they walked towards it, Dean put something inside the pocket of his jacket. "Now, describe the fangs you saw," he said.  
Rory stared at him. "Well, they were fangs, I mean. They in the front of her mouth, but not directly, um, they weren't huge, though they seemed it at the time," he said, thinking.  
Dean listened carefully. "Great. Sounds like we have at least one vampire here," he muttered.  
Rory felt his stomach drop. "Vampires. Fantastic." He had had an encounter with the Saturnyns on his first trip in the TARDIS with the Doctor and Amy. They had been horrible, and were like vampires but with some differences. He didn't like the idea of facing real vampires however. "So, what do we do?" he asked, hurrying along.  
"Nothing," Dean said firmly. "Despite the instinct you probably feel now, we're not going to do anything. The Doc wanted us to come back with information, and we're outnumbered with odds that no one knows. So unless you want to die early, we should continue what we came here for."  
Rory nodded, calming down slightly. Getting anxious would not help, he told himself. Dean turned to him before they walked into the building. "Have you ever lied?" he asked.  
Rory looked at him incredulously. "Of course," he said.  
"Not the little white lies to prevent you from getting in trouble," Dean said. "But illegal lies, such as pretending to be someone you're not."  
Rory nodded. "Every once in a while," he said.  
Dean smiled. "Good, that'll make this easier." He handed Rory a plastic ID badge. Looking it, Rory read _Special Agent Taggart_. "How did you come by this?" he asked.  
Dean just winked at him. Then he turned back towards the building. "Come on, partner," he said smugly, starting towards the brick building.  
Rory hurriedly put the ID in a pocket where he could reach it easily, then followed Dean. The doors this time didn't creak, and they swung open to reveal a much nicer setting. The walls were sheet rock, and the floors were still wooden, but instead with a finisher like you would find in a regular home. They were several corridors leading off to a meeting room most likely or any other room the mayor might need. There was a woman sitting behind a desk in front of them, and Dean walked over to them.  
"Hello, I'm Agent Rosewood and this is my partner Agent Taggart," Dean said, showing the ID. Rory flashed his as well, quicker than Dean, and making sure to hide the picture of Sam on it with his fingers.  
The woman looked at them. "And what can I do for you agents?" she asked coldly. "Wow, quite the hospitality this town has," Dean muttered. Clearing his throat, he looked back at the woman. "We need to see the mayor concerning private business."  
Rory waited. He half expected the woman to throw them out as well. She certainly looked as if she wanted to. Instead, she picked up the phone on her desk. "Hello, Mr. Richardson? Yes, there are two agents here to talk to you. Yes, sir."  
They waited for her to finish the call, each making a note of his name. Once she hung up, the secretary looked at them, not a hint of warmth in her gaze. "Do down the hall and it's the last door on your right," she said.  
"Thank you ma'am," Rory spoke up. He headed down where he said, Dean at his side.  
"You're not that bad at this," Dean said quietly.  
"At what, Agent Rosewood?" Rory said, innocently.  
Dean snorted and muttered something under his breath. By then they had reached the office. Dean strode up to the glass door and knocked on it. "Come in," said a voice from inside.  
Dean opened the door and held it for Rory. Rory thanked him as he walked in, and then turned his attention to the man who was standing up behind a desk. "Mr. Richardson? I'm Agent Taggart, this is my partner, Agent Rosewood," Rory said.  
Mr. Richardson looked at them. He was a slightly overweight, middle-aged man with blond hair. "Please, take a seat. Now, what can I do for you agents?" he asked once they had indeed taken a seat.  
"We were sent here to investigate some strange claims that were called in," Dean said.  
Mr. Richardson sighed. "Yeah, the disappearances, right? I told the families that the police had done everything they could. Sometimes there's just nothing we can do once the trail goes cold."  
"Can you tell us everything you know about the disappearances?"  
The mayor shrugged. "All I know is that in the middle of the night, people would disappear out of their homes. Occasionally there would be signs of struggle, but besides that nothing. One time one of the campers around the area claimed to have seen a figure carrying what looked to be like a long sack into the forest. No one paid him any attention, unfortunately, as he is a bit of a drunk. Besides that, there's nothing. The cleanest abduction I've ever seen."  
"And you've seen much abduction?" Dean asked, a snide aspect to his tone.  
The mayor looked at him. "Son, I've been the mayor here for going on thirty years," he said. "Before that I used to live in the city. I saw abductions night and day before coming here. I know when there is no hope in getting any of them back."  
Dean nodded, looking slightly abashed. Rory waited for Dean to stand before standing himself. "You boys have yourselves a nice day," the mayor said, briskly.  
"Thank you and you too, sir," Rory said while Dean nodded again.  
As they excited the building, Rory turned to Dean. "You know, you're taking all of this well," Rory said.  
"Yeah, well, the traveling thing isn't that weird, Cas does it all the time. And I've seen some pretty weird stuff, so I guess the shock..." Dean's voice trailed off. "Then again, that whole box thing is just really freaking weird."  
They headed split up, Dean to go to the sheriff's office and get the case files. Rory went to the library to look up the news articles on the people who disappeared. As he walked towards the building he supposed must be the library, Rory considered the Winchester's lives versus his and Amy's with the Doctor. There were several differences, the main one being that the Winchesters hunt thing while the Doctor was strictly no killing. But in a way, they were similar. They both involved dealing with creatures that weren't something you came across randomly on the street on a nice Sunday afternoon.  
Perhaps that's what made the knowledge of the Doctor and what he did easier to comprehend than most of the people they came across. Definitely made it easier than what John had to go through; Sherlock had been surprised, but he had been shown that everything they said was true, he was eager to learn more. John had taking more convincing, but eventually he had come around. Rory laughed slightly, remembering the first time they had come across the famous detective and his blogger. It had been a bit off-putting at first, but Rory liked to think they had become friends.  
Despite being this in the 21st century, there was only one computer in the library that apparently was only used for web searches. Instead, the newspapers were stacked in neat, orderly piles along the far wall. Rory searched through the piles for the newspapers of the last month or so. After he had this, he went to a nearby table and looked through the papers, searching for anything to do with the disappearances. According to the the articles, everything had been normal the night before. The other occupants of the house had simply woken to find the missing person gone, with occasional signs of struggle. Other than that, nothing. It was as if they had simply gotten up and left.  
Rory looked at the clock on the wall. Dean had said to meet him outside in the center of the square in an about two hours. Rory had about half an hour left. Looking around, his gaze fell on the computer. After putting away the newspapers, Rory walked over. Sitting down, he opened the internet. Going onto the search engine, Rory entered _Sam and Dean Winchester_. Police records came up, various websites, including one called _ .com_, and also a You Tube video about a compilation of news articles from around a year ago about the Winchesters. Rory hesitated for a moment, then clicked on the links to the articles.

Sherlock walked next to Sam. They followed the tracks, keeping an eye out for anything out of the ordinary. As they walked, Sherlock watched Sam out of the corner of his eye. He hadn't said anything when they first met, but Sherlock had looked at him and his brother and saw pretty much everything. Sherlock had wanted to tell the Doctor what he saw; as Sherlock didn't think the Winchesters were trustworthy. They were perfectly loyal to each other, to their friends, even the people they worked with when the time suited; however, if the time came between choosing each other or the Doctor or one of his friends, there was no doubt in Sherlock's mind who they would choose.  
Given time, however, perhaps enough loyalty could be created as to ensure that the Winchesters would help their cause as opposed to heed it. The Winchesters were definitely some of the most capable people he had ever come across, definitely not a force Sherlock would like to go up against.  
"Tell me, Sam," Sherlock started. "How long have you and Sam been hunting demons and such?"  
Sam looked up from what he was doing, surprise flickering in his eyes. "Pretty much all of our lives," he said. "Our father raised us into the life, why?"  
"Simply curious," Sherlock murmured.  
Sam shrugged, and turned back to clearing the path. "What about you?" he said eventually. "What got you into being a consulting detective?"  
Sherlock hesitated for a moment. "The police force was inadequate to do their jobs," he said snidely. "So I found a way to solve cases without becoming one of them."  
Sam wasn't surprised. He had once been interested in going to Oxford, so Sam had done a little research of London and Cambridge, and had of course come across many mentions of the famous detective Sherlock Holmes. While the detective was known for his famous mind, many articles had noted that he held the rest of the world in some degree of contempt.  
"Can I ask you something?" Sam said. When he didn't get a response from Sherlock, Sam continued anyway. "You can read people as easily as I would read a book. What did you see about my brother and me?"  
Sherlock raised his eyebrows. It wasn't often that people wanted to hear what he saw in them. In fact, they usually got embarrassed and threatened to sue, demanded to know how he knew, were astonished, or just called him a freak and walked off. The last one used mainly by Sgt. Donovan back in London.  
Sherlock drew a breath. "You and your brother have seen tough times. You have some problems with your father; perhaps you didn't follow orders like he wanted. Both of you have undergone some sort of torture for an extended period of time. You've gone places that you'd rather not think about, there's enormous guilt on both of your shoulders. Both of you are rather dependent on each other and are extremely loyal. Recently though there's been some tension about a variety of things, more than usual. And there's something else, something that is harboring at your conscience. You feel guilty about something, yet angry at your brother for some reason. The anger and guilt is combining, not a good thing. You both lie very often, perhaps every day and are often on the run from local authorities. You know how to imitate practically anyone that you need to, and have. You both care also for Castiel, though it seems that Dean is perhaps closer to him than you. There's been tension between them though, however that's the past and both are trying to go ignore it."  
Now it was Sam's turn to raise his eyebrows. "Not bad," he said, impressed.  
Sherlock smirked. "Not the hardest to read," he said.  
Sam rolled his eyes. "Thanks," he said.  
"Anytime."  
For a while there was silence. There was nothing more to see in the path, it clearly lead for a while on before they would get to the destination. At this time whoever had taken care before had figured that no one would go this far and had stopped covering his tracks. _Not the most intelligent foe,_ Sherlock thought. They walked through the forest, with Sherlock very out of place in his coat, which his suit underneath. Thankfully it was fall, so there had been a need for it after all.  
After several minutes of silence, they came across a clearing in the forest. There was a small hut in the middle of it. The ground around it was dirt, a harsh contrast to the grasses that were ten feet away from the The hut itself was made out of wood that looked to be rotted, and was falling apart. Aside from that it, it was extremely small. There was the ability to hold one, maybe two people inside it, but no more. Whatever was going on here wasn't the large aspect of the operation.  
"Shall we?" Sam said, moving forward. He had adopted a cautionary stance and was walking forward slowly. Sherlock stayed behind him, his hand drifting towards the gun he had in his pocket. When they approached the door, Sam took out his own gun and held it in front of him. Letting the more battle experienced hunter go first, Sherlock took a look around them. There was nothing else out there, as far as he could tell.  
Moving inside, Sherlock waited as Sam checked the room. There was nothing in here except a rundown table and chairs. The windows were all boarded up, apparently recently. The floors were dusty except for a single path and section of the floor. Sherlock moved to that area and felt along it, finding the ledge in which to remove the floorboards. Once he did, they both recoiled from the smell. It wafted up, the smell of rotting flesh, blood, and strangely, sulfur.  
"Demons," Sam breathed, coughing on the stench.  
Sherlock made a mental note that sulfur meant demons, which was certainly going to be useful later. Sam started to move down the stairs, gun held out in front of him. The stairs were rickety, but they held. As Sherlock started to move down them, the stairs let out a loud creak. The pair of them froze, waiting. There wasn't another sound. When the both reached the bottom, they looked around. Sherlock and Sam both took out flashlights they had in their jackets. Turning them on, Sherlock could see that the basement was much larger than a single room. There was a dug out hall that led into another room farther away. The smell was coming from down that way as well.  
The men moved towards it, Sam at point, Sherlock watching the rear. Eventually they made into the room where the smell was originated from. Sam stopped in his tracks, causing Sherlock to almost crash into him. "What?" he whispered. Then he saw.  
"Holy hell," Sam whispered.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey guys! Thank you all so much for reading the story, I love your support and your reviews and everything, it's fantastic! So, I'm putting this little segment here because 1: I figured out that there was indeed nowhere on the website you did this, it's in the document (Kind of sad I didn't realize this at first) and 2: The scene you're about to read towards the end, Sam's POV, I'm not quite sure what to think about it, please let me know! I'm writing way ahead of posting, so I'm several chapters ahead and it will pay out, but let me know what you think!**

**Chapter 4 **

The Doctor walked forward, making sure to stick to the path that was hidden from any passerby's sight. He waved his sonic screwdriver around, occasionally check the readings. The readings were generally normal, although there was something. Something different, something unusual. It wasn't good, instead, it was evil, more evil than the Doctor liked. Granted, he didn't like anything evil. There was too much evil in the world. But there was good too, lots of good. There was more good in humans than he had thought at first. Perhaps that was why he liked them so much, they kept surprising him in so many ways.  
After all this time, and it had been many, many, many years, the Doctor hadn't found a species so unique as the humans. There were plenty of interesting species out there, but the humans, they kept surprising him. They kept evolving, changing, able to survive, but most of all, no matter how they changed, they still were compassionate. They still cared. There were those who truly didn't care, but the overwhelmingly majority of the humans care about one thing or another. The Doctor never ceased to be amazed by the humans. There was just about them that he couldn't put his finger on, something that intrigued him, something that he liked.  
The Doctor continued onwards. The path wasn't covered up, but to the careful eye, it wasn't covered up very well. More as an afterthought than a precaution. Whoever did this was clever, very clever. They wanted to attract attention. At first it seemed like it was done carelessly, but no, it was done with purpose. They wanted to disguise from anyone walking by, but have it not disguised enough so that if someone was looking, they would see it. Yes, whoever did this was clever. The Doctor grinned; it was always a treat to deal with someone clever. It always made the adventure more exciting and interesting.  
As the Doctor continued to scan the surrounding area, he couldn't shake this feeling of uneasiness. The Ood had told him that something was going to happen, just as they had told him when he was going to regenerate into his eleventh form. They had told him to beware, that there was great evil coming, something that would change his life and the lives of his friends. The Doctor didn't like that at all, not one bit.  
The light at the end of his sonic screwdriver blinked. The Doctor waved the area again; again, the sonic blinked at the same area. The Doctor frowned. That was odd. The Doctor followed the direction in which the sonic was blinking, straying far from the path. The Doctor eagerly bounded forward, excitement beginning to boil in the bottom of his stomach. Despite his worry, there was nothing quite like the thrill of another adventure.  
The trail led by his sonic led into the trees. The Doctor moved forward slowly. _This ought to be interesting, no creatures from another planet so far,_ the Doctor thought. That was unusual; usually there'd be one or two strange creatures that he'd have to explain to Rory or Amy. The Doctor carefully maneuvered between some fallen trees. There was a small path here; not a path that was traveled often, but regularly enough to leave an imprint in the foliage. As he continued onward, the Doctor thought about the journey so far. He was extremely glad to have friends around him; he had missed Sherlock and John. The Winchesters...The Doctor wasn't sure what to think about them. They were hunters, something that the Doctor didn't approve of. He didn't like violence at all necessarily, though sometimes minor violence unfortunately was indeed necessary. However, the brothers, especially Dean, seemed to think that violence was the first and only option. Sam seemed like someone who was more likely to try to think things through, whereas Dean was more the "shoot first ask questions later" person.  
However, there was no denying that they would be useful. Perhaps they would even become friends after this. The Doctor had first heard of them after they had stopped the Apocalypse three years ago. Some of his other associates had heard of them and let the Doctor know; ever since then there had been a part of him that was curious. While Amy and Rory were living their own lives, he'd occasionally stop and take a look at what the Winchesters were doing. Not very often, so he didn't know the details. But it was enough to make him a little wary.  
However, Sam and Dean were proving their worth, and the Doctor was beginning to trust them. They had saved Rory's life, that definitely counted for something. Perhaps, just perhaps...maybe they could even join him. Rory and Amy weren't around all the time, and though the Doctor would never admit it, he was a bit lonely. Having more company around would be brilliant. Even more so if they became friends with Rory and Amy, therefore everyone would get along with no fighting and it would be a fantastic adventure. But those were just dreams, and he highly doubted Dean and Sam would ever come with him. Especially with Dean's fear of flying and their sense of duty.  
A sudden noise pulled the Doctor out of his thoughts. There was something crashing around in the undergrowth in front of him, albeit at least twenty feet away. The Doctor slowed, and slid behind a group of trees. The area around him seemed to grow darker and more menacing, though the Doctor reassured himself that it was simply the sun passing behind a cloud. The noise came again. It was a horrible sound, almost like an ethereal scream. A ghostly yell. The Doctor moved forward more, carefully keeping his presence unknown.  
The Doctor eventually came across the undergrowth that had moved moments before. Holding out his sonic and holding his breath, the Doctor scanned quickly and looked at what the readings were. Breathing a silent sigh of relief, the Doctor realized that whatever was out there was human. _Human's good, _he thought,_ human is very good. Much better than the alternative._ He moved out, cautious all the same. He could see the outline of a body, but there was no movement. Hurrying up to it, the Doctor knelt at the person's side. He could see now that it was a young woman with blond hair. She wasn't unlike another blond young woman the Doctor had known...but he pushed that thought out of his head. This woman was here, now, and she needed help. The Doctor scanned her. There wasn't anything wrong, as far as he could tell.  
Picking her gently up, the Doctor turned to take her back to the TARDIS. When he turned around, he could have sworn there was black smoke just behind him, but when he blinked it was gone. A shudder went down the Doctor's back, and he hurried back in the direction that he hoped was where the TARDIS and his companions waited for him. As he started to walk quickly, the Doctor went through a pocket of extremely cold air. The Doctor whipped out his sonic and scanned, though he knew what was there. He didn't need to be a hunter to know that pockets of cold air meant ghosts. The Doctor turned again, and hurried faster than before, almost breaking into a run.  
John and Amy had finished clearing the area by the TARDIS, the Doctor saw as he walked up. Rory was sitting beside her in the grass, so clearly he and Dean had gotten back. _But where's the elder hunter himself, _the Doctor wondered. Looking around, he didn't see Dean at all. Just then, Amy looked up and spotted him. "Doctor!" she called, concern in her voice. "What happened?"  
John hurried into the TARDIS, probably to gather his medical supplies that the Doctor had kept just for occasions like this. Rory ran over to the Doctor and helped him support the woman. They laid her down propped up against a tree in the shade. The woman moaned, a soft sound escaping her mouth, telling everyone that she was alive. John came out and began to check her over. His eyes were filled with worry. "What happened?" Amy asked again.  
"I was looking over that way, and came across her lying there," the Doctor said.  
Rory was assisting John with the inspection. The Doctor and Amy watched anxiously by the TARDIS, giving those with medical experience room to work. The Doctor would have helped, but he figured that an army doctor and a very skilled nurse would be more than enough to help, if there was any help that could be done. "Did you just follow the path?" Amy asked.  
"Yes!" Amy looked at him. "All right, so I strayed. But, but, it's a good thing I did!" the Doctor said stubbornly.  
"It is." The two looked up at the sound of the voice. John was walking towards them. "She should be fine," he reassured them. "Nothing harmful was done to her it seems, in the form of scars or lacerations. She may have head trauma, which would explain why she's not conscious. We'll know more when she wakes up."  
"But she will wake up, right?" the Doctor asked.  
"Almost positively." This time Rory spoke, after covering the woman with his jacket and walking over to their group.  
The Doctor breathed another sigh of relief. Then he looked around at the group, remembering that there was one missing. "Rory, where did Dean go?" the Doctor asked, a hint of urgency in his voice.  
Rory shrugged. "We met up after splitting up to do research in the town, and he called me before the time we were to meet up and said he had to check something out, and that I should head back without him," he said.  
A feeling of dread came into the Doctor, but he shook it off. "I'm sure Dean can handle himself," he said cheerily. "Now, I suppose we have to wait for Sam and Sherlock, or are they back but hiding somewhere?" the Doctor chuckled a bit, but no one joined him.  
"Not back yet," John said, a hint of worry in his voice.  
The Doctor sighed. _I wish there were times when if someone was late, it wasn't a cause for such anxiety, _he thought. There was nothing to do, so the Doctor flopped down next to Amy. "Anything exciting happen while I was away?" he asked, trying to distract all of them.  
They all saw what he was trying to do, but decided to go with it anyway, grateful for the excuse to take their minds from their missing comrades. John and Amy had come across nothing, the area around the TARDIS was clear. There were some footprints around the back of the TARDIS, but that was all. After they were talking done talking, everyone turned to Rory. He had a troubled look on his face. "Well..." he hesitated, an uneasy tone in his voice. "There is something..." Then Rory started to speak fully.  
He had looked the Winchesters up while Dean was at the police station, Rory explained. He had come across some police records that had claimed that they had done many illegal acts, including fraud, impersonation of officials, federal and non, decimation of graves, breaking and entering. But that wasn't the worse part. Dean was wanted in several states for murder. The records claimed he murdered a whole string of people in various states and had escaped at the last minute. Then last year they had gone on a killing spree. The video someone had made was horrifying, Rory said. They had gone from town to town and had massacred everyone in certain restaurants. Rory pulled out his phone. He had the video on it, he said, just in case they needed leverage or something. They all watched, looking on as massive bloodshed occurred until it finally ended.  
Everyone was silent. Amy looked sick, John looked disbelieving. The Doctor was horrified. _Who could do something like this?_ He wondered. But there wasn't something quite right. The other crimes, he could see. But murder? The Doctor shook his head. He had been called foolish and more for putting too much trust in the innocence of humans. But Dean and Sam were hunters; they hunted the supernatural, not human beings. They protected innocent, the Doctor saw it in their eyes. But then the memory of the police officer who was possessed flickered into the Doctor's mind. There had been someone else in there, the Doctor had seen as much. The Winchesters hadn't hesitated, however. _That's not fair,_ the Doctor argued with himself. _The demon had a gun to Sam's face, what else were they supposed to do_? The Doctor was a bit astonished with himself, trying to justify what they had done.  
The Doctor felt shaken; he had begun to like the Winchesters, even if they had were a bit to weapon friendly, though in a way that reminded him of his wife. River. The Doctor wished she were here, then he would have someone to truly discuss this with. But she was off somewhere else, traveling, exploring, and making new discoveries.  
The Doctor stood up, shaking off these troubling thoughts. "I'm sure there's some sort of explanation," he said.  
Rory stood up as well. "Doctor, what explanation could there be for this?" he gestured at the video. "They weren't hiding. They had people take videos; they talked to the camera, right before they killed whoever was holding it. Then they bragged about it. What kind of people would do this kind of thing?" he demanded.  
"Do what kind of thing?"

Sam watched as everyone in the group ahead of him and Sherlock jumped. He had almost not noticed they had been gathered around, his thoughts so wrapped up in what Sherlock and he had discovered. They all turned, guilty expressions on their faces. _Uh oh,_ Sam thought. There was something new in their eyes as they looked at him. Sherlock noticed it too, his eyes narrowed, looking at them. "What's going on? What kind of thing?" Sherlock repeated Sam's question.  
Then Sam noticed someone was missing. "Where's Dean?" he asked.  
Everyone ignored his question. "Sherlock," John said, a strange catch in his voice. "A moment, if you would."  
Sherlock walked over, looking at all of them as he did so. Sam took a step forward as well, but Rory's had drifted to his pocket as he did, and Sam stepped backwards instead. "What's going on?" wariness drifted into his voice.  
They were standing in a line of sorts; the Doctor in the middle with Amy at his right, Rory standing next to her. John to his left, with Sherlock standing a little ways behind him. The Doctor looked sorrowful, while Rory looked angry. Amy and John were looking at him with something else in their eyes, Sam wasn't sure. "Guys..." he said, his voice unsure.  
"Sam," the Doctor spoke first. "Sam...oh, Sam..."  
"Doctor," Sam said. "What is going on?"  
"Why don't you tell us," Sam looked at Rory, confusing clouding his face.  
"Uh, sure, what do you want to know?" Sam asked, still confused.  
"How about last year, when you massacred hundreds of people on a road trip around the country?" Rory asked, anger clear in his voice.  
Sherlock's head snapped towards Rory, surprise and shock clear on his face. Sam frowned. "What...how..." his voice trailed off.  
"You're not going to even deny it?" Amy exclaimed.  
Sam looked at her. "Of course," he said calmly, though inside he certainly did not feel calm. Then he looked at all of them in turn. "That wasn't Dean and me," he said. "Last year there were these things called Leviathans that were walking around. Leviathans can take on the form of anyone they want. Two of them took on the form of me and Dean and went around to every place we'd ever been, beginning where this had all started for us. They killed all of those people, not me and Dean!"  
They didn't believe him; Sam could see that. John had taken out his gun while Rory had a knife in his hand. The only one without some sort of distrust on his face was Sherlock, surprisingly enough. However, the detective stayed silent, not planning on vouching for him. Sam was just thinking about what to do next when-  
"Sammy?"  
Dean was walking towards the group, his hand heading towards his gun, concern on his face. Amy and the Doctor turned towards him while the rest stayed facing Sam. "What's going on here?" Dean asked harshly.  
"You and your brothers had quite the past," the Doctor said mildly, though there was a darkness in his eyes.  
"So does everyone else here, yet I don't see anyone else having guns point at them," Dean said, affronted.  
"Dean," Sam said warningly. It wouldn't help them to get everyone more upset than they were.  
"Yours just happens to be a little darker than what we were prepared for," the Doctor said, still mildly.  
Dean's eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?"  
"Your bloody road trip," Rory put in.  
Confusion flickered across Dean's face for a moment, then it cleared. "Oh, are they talking about the thing with the Leviathans?" he called across to his brother.  
"Yep," Sam responded, his eyes never leaving the group.  
Doubt flickered in Amy's eyes at Dean's use of the word "Leviathan"; clearly she was thinking that perhaps it was true if both brothers had the same story seemingly without discussing it beforehand.  
"We should have gotten Charlie to delete that crap," Dean muttered.  
Despite himself, Sam had to grin. Charlie Bradbury. Feisty redhead they had encountered while trying to take down Dick Roman and his enterprise. She had helped them stay undercover but had broken her arm in the process. This year they had run into her again, this time at a LARPING group where she was the Queen of Moondor. She hadn't changed a bit, full of attitude and love for things that Dean would have normally called Sam a geek for loving. Sam wondered how she was doing, as they hadn't come across her for a while. Probably for the best, Sam reflected.  
However, reminiscing and wishing to change the past wasn't going to help them in this situation. Sam started to move slowly towards Dean, while his own hand drifted towards the demon blade that he always kept on him. Instantly John's gun was up, pointing at Sam. Sam showed them his hands, hoping that he wouldn't shoot as he continued towards his brother. _I've got to break this habit,_ Sam though, remembering how less than ten hours before the demon had held a gun to his head as well.  
In almost the same instant that John put his gun up, Dean had his up. There was a dangerous look in his eye, the look he always got when someone was threatening his little brother. Walking slowly up to his brother, Sam put one of his hands on Dean's arm. Dean spared a glance at him, his attention staying on John. The Doctor strode between the elder Winchester and John, putting his hands up pleadingly. "We don't need to fight," he said desperately.  
"I wasn't planning on it, Doc. I was just coming back expecting to continue working the case, but instead I see everyone against my brother, I don't know," Dean said. "It didn't seem like anyone else didn't want to fight."  
The Doctor looked at him, then turned to John. "Both of you put the guns down," he commanded. "_Now._"  
Looking at each other, John and Dean slowly obeyed, their gazes never wavering.  
Once the guns were on the ground, Amy swooped in, picking both of them up before handing them to the Doctor. The Doctor used his sonic to do something to them, Sam wasn't sure what. Probably jammed them, that's what Sam would have done, and with the Doctor's hatred of weapons, it seemed like the thing to do. Once the guns were down, everyone relaxed slightly. Except Rory. There was still a spark in his eyes, despite the fact that there wasn't an immediate threat. A thought occurred to Sam, but he pushed to the back of his mind.  
"What are you doing, Doctor?" Rory hissed under his breath.  
Amy looked at him in shock. The Doctor turned his head slightly, but didn't say anything to his companion. Sherlock tilted his head, studying Rory. The detective hadn't said anything this entire time, but he spoke up now. "Doctor, Sam and Dean have done nothing to prove us fools for trusting them," he said slowly.  
Sam contained his surprise. He had gotten the feeling that Sherlock didn't like him or his brother, but perhaps that was what the detective wanted. The detective continued: "They saved the life of one of our friends; they seem to be the only ones who know what's going on. Perhaps..."  
The Doctor hesitated. Rory instantly sparked. "Think of what they've done," he whispered to the Doctor. "They've killed innocents, hundreds of them. Just from that act alone. What else have they done, things that the police haven't come across, things that won't be known by anyone except for them."  
The Doctor remained silent, clearly torn. Sam could tell he wanted to trust him, that there was always a part of him that wanted to trust everyone, but Rory had several good points in the Doctor's mind. Sam knew that it was all bull, but there wasn't anything he could do. He certainly couldn't say as much, who would believe him? Then the Doctor made his decision. His eyes grew dark as he looked at Sam and Dean. Seeing this look, Rory turned back to the brothers. He moved towards them, raising the gun that no one had noticed him grab from the duffels that the Winchesters had brought from the Impala. Sam's eyes widened; he and Dean both moved back carefully.  
There was a strange look in Rory's eyes. Sam would never have pictured him being able to do something like this, but perhaps when he perceived a threat to his wife or his friends, he became braver. Certainly more foolish. But foolish equaled dangerous, and neither Sam nor Dean wanted to be shot. "Rory!" Amy shouted.  
Her husband ignored her. "Go," he said, gesturing with the gun. "Leave, and never come across us again."  
"Our pleasure," Dean said, not being able to resist one last comment. "I generally try to avoid people who are crazier than us combined."  
Sam grabbed Dean by the arm and dragged him away before he could get them killed. As they began to walk away, he saw that everyone was watching. Despite disapproval at Rory's actions, there were no friendly eyes watching them leave. The only thing close to it was in Sherlock's eyes, which held neither anger nor sorrow. They were just watching, watching everything that happened. Sam turned away. "Wait!" a voice called out.  
They turned. The Doctor was walking towards them. He tossed the duffelbags at their feet, which he had grabbed from inside the TARDIS. Not saying another word except looking both of them in the eye, he walked back to the rest of the group. As Sam and Dean watched, they all went back into the TARDIS, until Rory was the last one remaining. As he walked towards the door, he looked one last time over his shoulder. Sam could have sworn there was a grin on his face, but Rory disappeared inside before he could be sure. Then came the screeching noise and the TARDIS began to fade until eventually the blue police box disappeared from their sight.  
"Well, this sucks," Dean said sourly. He picked up the duffels, throwing it over his shoulder.  
Sam was about to grab the other one when there came a groan from over by a tree. A young woman was leaning there, holding her head. Sam rushed over to her. "Hey, hey," he said soothingly as she looked up at them. "Hey, we're here to help. What happened?"  
Her voice was shaky, but strong all the same. "I...I'm not sure. I was just sleeping... in my house when... all of a sudden... I heard this noise in the living room... I grabbed a knife and went downstairs to investigate..." her voice trailed off.  
She didn't need to continue for Sam to be able to put the pieces together. She had been kidnapped, that much was certain. "Hey, it's okay now. What's your name?" he asked.  
She looked at him, her blue eyes searching his. "Erica," she said.  
"Erica. Beautiful name," he complimented. Erica smiled shyly, accepting the hand he offered her.  
Dean was looking at her with concern and also some curiosity. "Is there anything else you remember? Anything at all?" he asked.  
Erica shook her head. "No, sorry. There was this dark room at some point, and I remember walking down this hallway that seemed to be made of dirt and then sunshine...but that's it, sorry."  
Dean nodded, as if something he had suspected had come true. Sam thought of the room that he and Sherlock had come across, and felt sick. Erica had barely escaped a horrible fate. She had no idea how lucky she was. Sam let her lean on him, while Dean grabbed both of the duffels. "Let's take you to your house, do you live around here?" Sam asked.  
Erica looked around, comprehension dawning in her eyes as she got her first good luck at her surroundings. "Yes, yes," she said excitedly. "This is the woods outside of town!"  
"All right, let's head back to Jamestown," Dean said. Sam looked at him, a puzzled grin on his face. "What? I paid some attention to history," Dean defended himself. "Shut up," he growled. "Bitch."  
"Jerk," Sam called out after him, then chuckled before following his brother. Erica walked slowly with wavering steps, but eventually she regained her balance and her footing. They made progress towards the town, though not fast progress, as they reached the town just as the sun was beginning to set. Sam was surprised to see that; more time had passed than he thought. Erica directed them towards a house on the outskirts of the houses.  
It was a quaint house, one you find in an older neighborhood. Sam liked it, it seemed peaceful and calm. Two things that was very rare nowadays. Erica found her key and gave it to Dean, who dropped the bags and went to open the door as Sam helped Erica towards the door. They had just reached the door when Sam heard a shout and a loud thump as if a body was hitting the ground, and he turned to see his brother fallen. "Dean!" Sam shouted. He suddenly found that Erica wasn't leaning on him anymore. Sam turned towards her, his braining screaming _idiot!_ at him. She was grinning the way a cat grins at a mouse. Her eyes were pitch black. Before Sam could react, he felt the butt of a gun hit the back of his neck, and he fell to the ground beside Dean. Before he lost complete consciousness, Sam could hear the pair of demons laughing as he slipped into the darkness...


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

The TARDIS was completely silent except for the whirl of the engines. There was a pit in the bottom of John's gut, a feeling that something was wrong that would not go away. He tried to ignore it. They had left the Winchesters, that was all. There was no trusting them, the things that Rory had said they had done, he had showed them the video. Still, there were some doubts in the back of John's mind. Out of everything that he came across with the Doctor, as well as the things he had come across today alone, would shape changing monsters really seem that implausible?  
Apparently he wasn't the only one with doubts. Amy paced back and forth, despite Rory's urging to stay by him. Sherlock was pacing as well, though his was more of his way when he had a puzzle in front of him and he needed to solve it. The Doctor was standing by the TARDIS console, talking to himself in low tones. John looked at them all, then decided to move towards Sherlock. As he walked towards his friend, Sherlock stopped pacing and stood still. His eyes were wide, and his mouth formed the words "of course" as was his habit when he figured something out.  
"What is it?" John asked as he neared.  
Sherlock turned to him in surprise, not realizing that he had come up. "It makes so much sense, John," he said. John held his annoyance in check. "What does?" he asked, keeping his tone controlled.  
"The room Sam and I came across. There was a table in the center, such as one they would use in the operation room. Blood everywhere, along with skin, most likely, muscle, all kinds of substances. There was a huge assortment of tools there as well, knives and other blades and such. So many torture instruments, John, it was incredible," the detective breathed, remembering. "There were some neither of us knew about, so Sam suggested we go back to Dean, who apparently would know about this kind of torture than us..."  
John winced. Even though he had raised a gun against the Winchesters, John wasn't completely comfortable about what had just transpired. There was something that felt off about the whole thing, but John had dismissed it. Instead, his soldier's instincts had kicked in, and he had raised his weapon to protect his friends from a potential threat. The thought seemed hollow, like John was trying to convince himself. But Sherlock had resumed speaking, so John withdrew from his own thoughts.  
"It's brilliant, what they're doing. Truly revolting, but brilliant. How they figured it out..." Sherlock's eyes brightened. "Someone who possesses an intelligent mind must be behind this; an average demon wouldn't have been able to figure this out."  
John felt his frustration rising. "Figured _what_ out?" he asked.  
Sherlock ignored him, moving towards the Doctor. John was started to follow, but Sherlock held his hand out, indicating that he should stay back. John sighed in annoyance, but didn't contradict his friend's wishes. If there was one thing that he learned while staying with Sherlock, it was to pick your battles and bid your time, and above all, have everlasting patience. That last one John was still working on, but this wasn't the time to go completely mental. They had other things to worry about.  
John looked around the room again. Rory had apparently given up on Amy and had moved out of the room, presumably to their bedroom. Amy had taken a seat on the edge of the center platform and was looking at the walls. John figured she was absorbed in her thoughts instead of just admiring the walls that most certainly did not fit with the image of the box from the outside. John walked over to her, lightly tapping her on the shoulder before settling down next to her. His old wound ached as he did, and John winced slightly, but Amy didn't notice. She was still gazing out, even though she had looked at him as he tapped her.  
"A penny for your thoughts," John said softly.  
Amy smiled slightly. "You need way more than a simple penny to get my thoughts," she teased softly.  
John shook his head. "I'm sure, but unfortunately all I have to offer is a penny."  
Amy fell silent, her gaze still on the wall in front of her. "It's just...in all of my times with the Doctor, we've never abandoned anyone. We've never left anyone behind, no matter what they'd done. Never. It was against the Doctor's nature. Now...we just left them, John," she whispered. "There was something horrible going on there, I could tell. There was something evil there, and we just left. There was more to do, more to find out, more to solve, and we just...left."  
John remained silent for a moment. "I know what you mean," he muttered, almost to himself.  
Amy turned to him. "Do you? You held the gun on Dean and Sam, do you know how I feel?" she spat.  
John held up his hands in defense. "Look, I'm not proud of what I did," he said. "However, what else could I do? I didn't know what they were capable of; I didn't know what they wanted. All I know is that they were cornered, and that anything gets ten times more dangerous when it's cornered. I wanted to make sure I could protect my friends."  
Amy nodded, accepting his answer. She leaned against John's shoulder, and John put his arm around her. "What are they going to do?" she wondered. "There is no way the two of them can handle whatever's out there alone..."  
"But they're not alone," John reminded her."They have Castiel, remember? An angel of the Lord, that's got to count for something, right?"  
Amy laughed slightly. "Yeah..." her voice trailed off, an unsure look still on her face.  
Just in that moment, there was a loud booming noise, not unlike a cannon or thunder. In fact, John would have sworn it was thunder, if not in that same instance there was suddenly a man in a trenchcoat standing right behind him. Amy and John scrambled to their feet while the Doctor and Sherlock whirled around. Everyone stared as Castiel looked around for a second, shock on his features.  
"What the-how-we're in space-how did-" the Doctor sputtered.  
Castiel ignored him, turning around wildly. He began to push past them, looking around the TARDIS, his eyes wide, but not with shock. There was a look of panic in his eyes, a look that had John feeling very uneasy indeed.  
"Castiel!" Sherlock shouted, attracting his attention.  
"What's going on?" demanded Amy.  
Castiel looked at them, the panic in his eyes growing. "Where is Sam and Dean?" he asked, his voice urgent yet still calm at the same time.  
The Doctor looked uncomfortable. "They're still on Earth in that town...but how did you enter here? We're in the middle of space, there's no way..." his voice trailed off as Castiel turned away.  
"Castiel, what's going on?" John asked.  
"I can't sense the Winchesters," Castiel muttered.  
Sherlock frowned. "Sense?"  
Castiel turned to him. "Yes, sense. I can feel how they are, vaguely. I can't tell their location as well as I used too, because I put runes on them that prevented them from being tacked. Even so, something is wrong. I've lost all sense of them completely," he continued.  
"And that's not normal?" Sherlock asked him, seemingly very interested in this new ability that Castiel had revealed.  
"No, I'm never completely cut off from them, especially Dean," Castiel said.  
There was a beat; then Amy turned to the Doctor. "Take us back," she said.  
The Doctor looked at her. "Amy..." he began.  
"No. Take us back, right now," she said, anger and determination flickering across her face.  
The Doctor hesitated, then turned to the console, clearing deciding it wasn't worth wasting time by arguing. No one said no to Amy Pond when she was really determined. Castiel watched him silently, something in his eyes that John couldn't figure out. There were many mysteries to this angel. _Must have one hell of a past,_ John thought wryly. Even though they had only met him once before, John was insanely curious about him.  
They all watched as the Doctor turned the levers and buttons in a combination that only he and his wife knew, as far as John was aware. The Doctor frowned; an action picked up by everything watching. "What is it?" Sherlock asked.  
"Something is disrupting the time continuum..." the Doctor murmured.  
John frowned. "Isn't that from Ghostbusters...?" he started to ask.  
No one paid him any mind. "Is that possible?" Rory asked.  
The Doctor shook his "It shouldn't be, or at the very least, I've never come across anything like it before," he said wonderingly.  
"Can you get us back at all?" Amy asked.  
The Doctor looked at her. "Have I ever failed you?" he held up a finger. "Don't answer that."  
He turned one final level and the TARDIS jerked, and they were off. John reached for the handle. Everyone except Castiel followed suit. The angel was hurled off his feet, but he grabbed onto the railing at the last moment. John made a note that if anyone else came into the TARDIS for the first time, if he was around, to warn them to grab on and hold on for life. Eventually the TARDIS came to a stop, and they let go, Castiel more warily; as if he expected another jolt.  
The Doctor moved over to him. "You know, you've taken the size of the TARDIS quite well," he said, hoping that Castiel would say the Doctor's favorite words. Castiel looked at him quizzically. "Why wouldn't I? The illusion of exterior size versus interior size is something I have dealt with quite often," he said.  
The Doctor diminished slight. "Oh," he said, disappointed. John had to smile. If there was something that the Doctor loved more than adventure, hearing the words: "It's bigger on the inside" was it. John shook his head then moved towards the door.  
"Wait," Sherlock spoke up. "If you couldn't get us to when we left the Winchesters, when are we?"  
The Doctor looked pleased. "Glad you asked. Because of the meddling it was rather difficult, but I was able to land us about five hours after we left them," he said proudly.  
John winced. That would mean that they couldn't help the Winchesters from getting into trouble. However, they could help them get out of it. John opened the door and excited, blinking in the sunshine. Then he gazed around in shock. "My god..." he whispered.  
The surrounding area had been completely changed. The trees had all had strange symbols carved into them. They were carved with what appeared to be nail marks in some, knives in others, and one of them with claws. John walked over to one, running his fingers in the lines. Some trees were unmarked in the way that they weren't cut up, but there was something else on them. Another rune, this time painted in something red. John walked over it, running his fingers over it. Some of the liquid came onto his fingers. Bringing it to his face, John felt a chill go down his spine as he realized it was blood.  
The Doctor was going over the carvings with his screwdriver while Sherlock was studying them intently. Rory and Amy were looking at them as well, with fear playing across Amy's face. Rory was watching, almost expressionless. John frowned for a moment, thinking that something wasn't right with Rory, but he was distracted by Castiel. He hadn't moved a step outside of the TARDIS. "Castiel?" John asked.  
The angel looked at him. "Those are warding symbols. They keep out angels," he gestured to the carved ones "and ones that banish angels," this time he gestured to the ones written in blood.  
"Someone figured you were coming," the Doctor murmured, gazing at the runes thoughtfully.  
Amy turned to Castiel. "Can we get rid of them?" she asked.  
Castiel nodded. "Cross out a bit off the banishing runes and create an x over the repelling ones," he said.  
There was paint inside the TARDIS-John had no idea why-and they painted over each rune. Only once they were done did Castiel step outside the TARDIS. He had a troubled look on his face. "If they took the time to prevent me to follow them, there will be more attempts to hinder us," he said.  
The angel had a habit of stating the obvious, John reflected. It reminded him in a way of Sherlock, even though the consulting detective never stated the obvious, or even anything that wasn't obvious since he believed that to everyone it was indeed, obvious. John smiled slightly, remembering some of the adventures that he and the consulting detective had had. This new one however...this was something which John didn't like; something he didn't have as much faith in. They had finished the case of Henry Baskerville a couple months ago, but Sherlock had seemed edgy. John knew why, and it made him nervous too.  
Some of the cases they'd had recently had distinctly been related to Moriarty. That alone made John nervous. Moriarty was not a man to be trifled with; in fact, if they had never heard of him again John would never have been happier. But Moriarty had taken a fancy to Sherlock for some reason, and Sherlock himself was fascinated in the mind of his nemesis. If was like a game to Moriarty, one that John considered too dangerous with too high of consequences. However, Sherlock wouldn't let it go, especially considering the man was the most dangerous criminal mind in the world.  
John shook his head, dismissing the thoughts from his mind. They had more important things to worry about. His hand drifted absently to his pocket, where he had his revolver. Despite living away from the war for several years now, there were habits that refused to die. John doubted that they ever would, even if he hung around with the Doctor for many, many years. His revolver would remain by his side, in case he needed it to defend either himself or one of his friends. Again, John shook his head. They needed to rescue some friends, not sit around thinking about metaphorically defending them.  
John turned towards Castiel. "Can you sense anything at all? Where they might be, what they could be feeling, anything?" he asked.  
Castiel closed his eyes for a brief moment, then regretfully shook his head. "No, there seems to still be something disturbing my connection to the Winchesters."  
John sighed. "Brilliant," he muttered.  
The Doctor whipped out his screwdriver. "I'll see if I can trace them and see where...ah ha!" he exclaimed excitedly. "I've got it!"  
There was a moment of relief, then there was much movement. Everyone started bounding off in different directions. "Wait!" Sherlock shouted. "We need a plan."  
Everyone walked back with the same expression of sheepishness of their faces, John noticed. "Here's what we're going to do," Sherlock began.

Dean blinked, shaking away the blurriness of his vision. There was very little light in the room, making it difficult to see. Well, more difficult than the difficult level it would have been. Dean's head ached where the vampire had hit him with the gun. _Son of a bitch..._he thought. A feeling of panic swept through him as his mind cleared. "Sammy," he muttered. Dean tried to move, but he was strapped to a table. There was a small table next to it, covered in some sort of series of metal tools. Dean knew these tools; he had used them for ten years while he was serving his time down in Hell.  
He had hoped had never to see these tools again. In fact, Dean wasn't sure how they had come out of Hell and onto Earth. He didn't think it was possible; yet here they were. Dean looked away, taking in the rest of his prison. The table he was strapped to was in the upright position; therefore he was standing with his feet on the ground. Dean was slightly surprised at this; he would have expected them to have him dangling. These demons were some stupid sons of bitches. He was in some sort of underground chamber. The walls were completely made out of packed dirt. There weren't any windows, obviously. A single door was to the side of where Dean was. It was wooden, forced into the door. One good kick and it would be down.  
The walls were completely bare, with the exception of runes drawn in blood. Dean recognized them instantly. It was a rune that he himself had drawn several times. It was a rune designed to banish angels. However, they had to be drawn in human blood. By the looks of it, the runes had been drawn several hours ago. Dean didn't want to think of how they came across human blood. Most likely possessed them, brought them down here and then done the deed. There were also pools of blood on the floor, some dried and some fresh. Not a good sign.  
Dean felt bile rising in his throat. He forced it down and assessed the situation in front of him. He needed to escape, find Sam, and then kill the demons and figure out just what the hell was going on here. There was nothing sharp near him, and his wrists were strapped down. However, the straps were a bit loose. Dean figured they had held him up as they strapped him in; therefore they weren't as tight as they could be. That was his advantage. Dean began to work the straps, slowly giving himself some leeway. Once he worked his wrists free, then he would be able to reach his own knife hidden in his jacket.  
Dean froze as the sound of footsteps sounded in the hallway. They were muffled, so outside was also dirt as well. The door opened slowly. Standing in the doorway was a woman, the same woman from earlier. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail. She was wearing a long dark coat. Several areas were darker than others, and Dean had a feeling he knew why they were. _This oughtta be good,_ he thought. "Well, look who it is," he said. "Tennessee certainly has odd ideas of hospitality. Though I do love what you've done to the place."  
The woman only smiled, her eyes flickering to black for an instant. _That's definitely not good, Dean thought, remembering the werewolves from earlier._ Dean had taken care of them earlier, or at least, the one in the store. It hadn't been hard; all he had to do was wait until the store was empty and then go in. There hadn't been a body left over, Dean had made sure of that. However, demons and werewolves in the same town wasn't a good thing. Usually one supernatural creature stayed away from any other kind, sometimes maybe their own kind. Whatever was going on here, it wasn't good in the slightest.  
She walked over to him, looking up at him. "Dean Winchester," she murmured. "Figured you'd be stopping by at some point, you and your brother. You two have the habit of showing up where you're not wanted. By anyone."  
Dean smirked at her. "That's one of my charms. Kind of inconvenient if a girl doesn't want me around though. Awkward for my new friend, if you get what I mean."  
The demon rolled her eyes. "You certainly are the most sarcastic of the pair of you. Sam was always the nice one, the researching one, ready to talk things out instead of just shooting. Unlike you," she said, turning away from him and looking over the instruments on the table.  
Dean swallowed. "Yeah, well, Sam is a pain in the neck sometimes, what can I say? He learned from the best," he chuckled, ignoring the fear that had come with the word _was_.  
"Even more so recently, isn't that so?" the demon remarked. Her fingers moved over the knives, caressing each. Dean ignored the movement, instead staring at the back of her figure, continually working the straps at his wrists.  
"Everyone goes through a certain phase. Sam's just been through a lot. Not as much as you though, when I get out," Dean said.  
"Cute," she said snidely. "Get the threats out of your system; they won't be much use to you soon."  
Dean snorted. He opened to his mouth to respond, but quick as lightning, the demon jammed a needle into his arm. He hadn't seen her take it out; she must have had it in her coat.  
"There, there," she whispered as Dean yelled in pain. "This will make you a little bit more cooperative, so it'll be easier for both of us." She grinned, her eyes completely black.  
Dean muttered various obscenities as he felt whatever it was course through his veins. The demon turned away, clearly confident in whatever poison she had given him. Dean drew in his breath as pain began to spark within his body. The demon laughed, still not looking at him. That was her mistake. Dean lunged forward, his wrists free, and grabbed her, dragging the demon back towards him. Dean held her in a choke hold. "Don't move," he breathed.  
The demon didn't listen. She elbowed him in the gut, straining against his arm. Dean tightened his grip, reaching for a knife that was in the table. It was just out of reach. _Going to have to do this the old-fashioned way,_ Dean thought to himself. He clamped a hand over her mouth as she turned her face upward. "Oh no, you don't," he growled. "You're not getting out that easy."  
The pain in his blood was growing more and more with every second. Dean pushed it to the back of his mind and tried to focus. The demon wasn't through, however. She whipped out a knife from inside her jack and stabbed it in his direction, not really aiming. Dean grunted as it tore through his abdomen. Letting go of her with one arm, Dean grabbed the knife. Instead of turning it on her, he lashed at the straps that remained at his ankles. Sawing viciously, soon he was completely free.  
Without pausing to wonder why the fight had gone out of the demon, Dean quickly slammed her against the table. Grabbing some duct tape-_why is that here?-_he quickly put some over her mouth. He took some more and placed it over the wound on his torso, wincing. _That's gonna hurt in the morning_. Dean shook the fuzziness out of the edge of vision, ignoring the pain now in his side as well as the poison. Grabbing a knife, he sliced open his hand without thinking, quickly drawing the rune that had come in handy so many times.  
Once the devil's trap was complete, Dean moved the demon to it, stepping away after she was trapped. Making sure there was no way to break the trap, he stepped back, placing a hand on his side. "Stay here, I'll be back soon," he said, casting a smirk over his shoulder. She said nothing, just watching him, something in her eyes. Almost like a look that said she knew what would happen before he did. Dean walked over to the door, ignoring the crawling feeling that went over his spine. All of a sudden, the pain doubled, the pain from his stabbing, the pain in his blood, all of it. Dean doubled over, crashing to his knees.  
"Dean!" he heard a shout from up ahead. There was the sound of running footsteps, many people running towards him. Dean hadn't heard anyone before, they had just gotten here. Dean gasped as pain hit him again, wave after wave. Someone knelt in front of him, but Dean couldn't see who it was. The pain had made his vision go white. Vaguely he heard someone shouting his name. Strong arms grasped him, grabbing his arms.  
"What's going on?" panic was thick in the voice of whoever was speaking.  
"I don't know, Sam," a worried voice.  
_Sam._ Dean felt relief sweep over him. Sam was safe; that was good. There was nothing more important than making sure Sammy was safe.  
"Bring him here," a calm voice ordered. _John. What's John doing here?_ Dean wondered. He felt himself being lifted slightly, then he was leaned against the wall. Dean groaned, the pain continuously growing.  
"Where's Cas?" he heard Sam ask desperately.  
Dean felt another surge of relief. Cas was there; that was good. Perhaps his friend could sort this mess out. Dean wasn't completely sure what had happened either; his memories were beginning to get cloudy. Another effect of the poison, no doubt. "Cas isn't back from dealing with the other demons," someone else said, a hint of a Scottish accent in her voice. Amy.  
Dean wondered why everyone was here. They had all left them a while ago, why were they here? Then another wave of pain crashed over him and the thoughts fled from his mind. "Here, bring him in here," he heard John commanding.  
Dean felt himself being lifted up again, his weight being supported by two people who could have only been his brother and Sherlock. There was a tearing sensation around his torso, and Dean winced, feeling his skin peel away from the tape. They stopped, and Dean felt someone pull away his shirt, checking the tape. "Oh sh..." he heard a whispered mutter. Then they lifted him carefully, but with more speed. Dean vaguely heard a muffled laughter as they entered the room where Dean had first woken up.  
Dean stumbled as one of the people holding him up made a move towards the demon. "Sam!" the Doctor cried out.  
There was a shout, but Dean felt Sam taking back part of his weight again. They led him over to the wall where he was once again leaned against. Dean tried to open his eyes, but there were flashes and spots, therefore he closed them again. He heard John give some commands, he felt the tape being torn away, he felt it being replaced with some bandages. New tape was applied, this time the kind of tape used to hold bandages to wounds. The pain was beginning to lessen a small amount. Dean relaxed, his breathing becoming slightly easier.  
He relaxed too soon. As soon as he did the pain came back, twicefold. Sam was arguing with the Doctor about the demon for some reason. Sherlock said something about Castiel and then Dean heard his footsteps leaving the room. Rory was there too, he was arguing slightly with Sam and the Doctor. Amy was by his side with John. Dean somehow knew they were there, even though his eyes were closed. He heard Sam's footsteps walking towards where the demon was. There was a sharp sound, as skin had hit skin. Dean slipped towards unconsciousness, walking towards the welcoming darkness that was there.  
Someone shook his shoulder, shouting his name in his ear. Then there was another commotion, people returning. Dean tried to stay aware, but the poison was too strong; the pain was too immense. Dean welcomed the darkness and the light at the same time, vaguely hoping that this time perhaps he would end up somewhere beautiful.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Rory paced wearily. He was exhausted. Amy was pacing next to him, chewing on her lip. The Doctor was investigating the tools on the tool next to the upright stand. There was a look of horror on his face at the same time fascination played across his features. Whatever he found out was truly horrible yet incredible at the same time. John was keeping an eye on his patient, even though Castiel had assured him that Dean was in complete health. Rory knew that John didn't trust that the angel had healed him completely, despite having seen things that were certainly more strange than an angel who could heal any wound.  
Sherlock was talking to the woman in the corner. She was sitting inside a rune drawn out of blood, which the Doctor had confirmed was Dean's. Sam has called it a devil's trap, saying that she couldn't get out of it as she was a demon. Sherlock was determined to get information out of her, and insisted on doing it alone without anyone else interfering. Sam himself was sitting next to his brother, refusing to leave his side. The younger Winchester had complete faith in Castiel's abilities; however he still didn't move an inch. Rory had to admire the love between the brothers. Rory himself had argued with his family, but he understood the bond between family, and the bond between the Winchesters was stronger than most. That was something that should never be broken.  
Castiel was there as well. He was looking around the room curiously, looking at all the runes on the walls and muttering something to himself. Rory heard him as Castiel had come close once, but he didn't understand the language. Judging by the Doctor's expression when Castiel had come near him, the Doctor didn't know either. That meant the language was something that must be purely unique to the angels. There were very few languages the Doctor didn't know. Rory figured as soon as they were back to the TARDIS the Doctor would be running the language through the database or whatever he had, trying to figure out exactly what the language was.  
The demon was watching them all, anger in her gaze. Rory recognized her from before. She was the woman the Doctor had carried out of the forest. It seemed like ages ago. Rory found his thoughts going to the confrontation between them and the Winchesters. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but Rory hadn't been feeling like himself at that time, for some odd reason. Certainly afterward he had felt guilty, though he had tried not to show it. He had just felt really angry for some reason, far more angrier than he was ever normally, unless Amy was threatened. There was another sense of guilt within him now. If they hadn't left, this might have never had happened. Dean would be fine; Sam wouldn't be glaring at them out of the corner of his eye, blaming them for what happened to his brother; Rory wouldn't feel this overwhelming sense of responsibility.  
But the past was past. Especially after traveling with the Doctor, Rory had learned that there was nothing they could do to change it. There were serious consequences if you did try. Rory hoped he would never be so desperate as to try to change the past. The Doctor was very strict on the rule of trying not to temper with history, especially the history of one of them or anyone else. Rory trusted the Doctor when he said that it wasn't worth it, especially if you succeeded in whatever you were trying to change.  
Rory walked over to Amy, who had moved away while she was walking her own pacing. He pulled her into an embrace, resting his chin on her shoulder. She nestled her head into his shoulder, tightening the embrace. "This is our fault," she whispered despairingly.  
Rory pulled away and looked into her eyes. "No," he said firmly. "It is my fault and my fault alone. I was the one who was pulling to leave them the Winchesters behind, no one of this is on your shoulders," he said softly yet still firm.  
Amy lightly punched him in the shoulder. "Don't be stupid. I'm your wife; some of what's on your shoulders is on mine. Besides, I didn't try to stop it from happening."  
Rory hugged her again. As he did so, he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. Dean shifted, beginning to wake up. Sam and Castiel were instantly on alert. The Doctor turned from what he was doing, while John knelt next to him, checking his pulse. Only Sherlock didn't turn to look. Instead he was continuing to concentrate of the demon. They were only talking, but from the looks of things, Sherlock was getting very little. There was a look on his face said that he was getting something but he wasn't satisfied with it.  
"Dean?" Sam said softly. "You awake?"  
"Of course I'm awake, who do you think I am, Sleeping Beauty?" his older brother grumbled.  
Sam grinned slightly, though there was still concern in his eyes. Castiel looked at Dean. "You have endured something extremely rare," he said in his gravelly voice. "I myself am not quite sure what it is."  
Dean sat up straight. "Perfect." He started to try to stand up, but John stopped him. "Sit for a minute, regain your senses," the army doctor ordered.  
"Whatever you say," Dean muttered. Relief flashed across his face for an instant, replaced with annoyance. Rory had to admire the hunter's ability to hide his emotions. Clearly, he had done this before and for a long amount of time.  
"So, what happened?" Dean asked. "No offense, but the last time I saw most of you was when you all were leaving us behind to take care of whatever the hell is going on here."  
John winced. Rory looked around awkwardly. "Castiel came inside the TARDIS," the Doctor finally explained. "He was quite insistent in the error of our ways and he convinced us to come back to assist you both."  
"Well, I'm not complaining," Dean said, massaging his head. "How did you guys get in here?"  
Amy spoke up. "It was Sherlock's plan. He remembered this place from when he and Sam had went exploring, and because they apparently came across mass torturing areas he knew that that was where you most likely were being taken. So then with Cas's help we dealt with anything that came our way until we found Sam. Then we found you," she said, finishing awkwardly.  
The consulting detective looked up at the sound of his name. John gestured for him to join them. Casting a final, disgusted look at the demon, Sherlock did. "So, what exactly was in the stuff she shot in me?" Dean asked, figuring that someone knew at this point.  
The Doctor scratched his head. "That's what's interesting about this whole thing. This is an unusual liquid, there's nothing in it except sulfur and blood, as well as something else entirely. A sort of evil essence, if you would."  
Dean looked up. "Sulfur, huh."  
Sam nodded. "The demons are way more involved in this than it first appeared," he said, casting a foul glance at the demon. She grinned at him, showing a bloody smile from when Sam had punched her earlier out of anger and desperation. Rory turned away from the smile, instead focusing on the group in front of him.  
"Oh, demons are more than just involved," Sherlock said. "They're the ones running the whole operation."  
Rory noted that the detective was speaking as if he were talking about nothing but a drug cartel, when merely days before he had doubted the existence of demons. But so much had happened since then, it was true. Perhaps it wasn't surprising that the detective suddenly be a believer. Sherlock Holmes, believer in the supernatural. Stranger things had happened.  
"What is the operation?" Sam asked.  
Sherlock turned to him. "Isn't it obvious? The sulfur, the blood, the torture tools from Hell," he pointed out.  
The rest shook their heads, Dean wincing as he looked at the tools. Sherlock looked at them for a moment. Then he sighed, shaking his head. "They're turning other into demons," he said flatly.  
There was a pause. "They're turning other humans into demons," Dean said disbelievingly.  
"Yes. Aren't these the same exact tools they used on you when you were in Hell? Aren't these the same tools that you took up to torture?" Sherlock asked him, gesturing to the tools.  
Something dark crossed Dean's eyes. He nodded quickly, glancing away. Sherlock turned towards the Doctor. "There was sulfur in the liquid, as well as blood and some sort of demonic essence?"  
The Doctor nodded his confirmation. "Then," Sherlock continued. "Sulfur is the substance that demons leave behind. They're injecting their victims with sulfur, bits of their own essence and blood, presumably demon blood. They're torturing them, which is how a soul becomes a demon. They're simply speeding the process to a mere matter of days as opposed to years."  
There was another silence as everyone processed what Sherlock was saying. "That is so messed up," Dean muttered, rubbing his head.  
"It makes sense..." the Doctor said slowly. "But why? Why? Why create demons on Earth as opposed to continuing the way they have been for years?"  
"For some reason there needs to be an increase in the number of demons now, as opposed to simply waiting a couple of years," Sherlock mused.  
Castiel tilted his head. "This is most disturbing," he muttered. "The demons have always been a problem, but Heaven has always been able to handle them."  
Dean snorted. "What about the whole sixty-six seals and Lilith thing?" he reminded Cas.  
Castiel looked at him. "That was a unique situation, Dean. Besides, the other angels wanted Lucifer to be free."  
"Anyway," Sam interrupted, shooting a look at them. "Demons are creating more demons, that explains the energy. But why are other creatures gathering?"  
"Perhaps the demons need assistance for some reason," Amy suggested.  
Dean shook his head. "Demons either work alone or with other demons. Never with anything else," he said. "They consider themselves above the rest of the world."  
"More likely the other creatures are gathering together to prepare themselves for whatever is coming," Sherlock said.  
"But what about the werewolves in the town?" Rory asked.  
"Demons are sneaky bastards, they wouldn't let their presence known," Dean said. "Most likely they hid out here, going out to take their victims and then go their dirty work."  
"Demons don't strike me as the type to skulk around in the shadows," Amy noted.  
"Normally, never. If there's a plan they need to follow, or if their goal in the end is worth it, then they will," Sam said.  
"The ends justify the means," John murmured.  
Sam nodded. "Precisely."  
"I do not understand how they are able to create demons Earth, where they are limited," Castiel said. "They have much more free reign to do whatever they want while in Hell."  
"There are way more humans on Earth than there are in the pit," Dean said.  
"That doesn't explain their ability to twist souls enough," Castiel said.  
"You think we're stupid?" Everyone turned to the demon, who had spoken. There was a smirk on her face. "Just because we don't have the same creativity on Earth doesn't mean we can't make ends meet."  
The Doctor strode over to her. He crouched down, looking in her eyes. "Why are you doing this? Why are you hurting people to make more demons?"  
The demon laughed. "You think I'm going to tell you?"  
The Doctor reclined on his heels, looking disappointed. "No, but I'd hoped you would."  
John put a hand on the Doctor's shoulder. "Come on, we should be getting out of here." He turned to Dean. "You all right?"  
Dean stood. "Perfect," he said, though he was a bit shaky.  
Cas moved to his side protectively, even though the elder hunter didn't need his protection at the moment. It was more instinctual than necessary. Rory smiled to himself slightly, noting the bond between the two. The Doctor walked around the room, scanning everything he saw, just to make sure nothing had been overlooked. Sherlock was scanning as well, only with his eyes as opposed to a sonic screwdriver. John gathered up his medical supplies that Cas had gotten for him with Amy helping. Rory had a feeling that before the journey was done they would need the doctor's skills again.  
Sam moved to gather the tools on the tray, putting them in a bag. Keeping an eye on the Doctor, who was preoccupied, Rory moved over to him. Sam looked at him as he came over, wariness in his eyes. "We might need these," he began, murmuring softly.  
"I know," Rory said, a hint of regret in his voice. Traveling with the Doctor generally meant to no violence when helped, but Rory had been through things. He had seen some messed up things, so while the non-violence was nice, he knew when there was no other choice. That didn't mean it was easy, but Rory would do it. If this helped keep Amy safe from demons and werewolves and whatever else came out at night, then this was what he would do.  
Slipping some things into his pocket, Sam turned to look round the room. He moved over to some of the symbols on the walls, running his hand over them. Rory watched him, taking the remaining tools and slipping one into his own pocket. After putting the rest into the bag that Sam had been using, Rory moved over to join him.  
"What do these symbols mean?" Rory asked.  
Sam looked at him curiously. "Well," he began. "This one is sigil that banishes angels"-Rory nodded, recognizing it from outside the TARDIS-"and this one is required to summon a demon, which is weird that they would have it here," Sam noted, looking at it carefully.  
Rory looked at them closely, committing them to memory in case the situation required that he knew how to draw them. He had also taken note of the one that Dean had drawn to trap the demon. Rory figured that one would probably be the most useful, as he didn't think that the angels were a problem (he had only met Castiel, after all) and he wasn't going to go about summoning a demon anytime soon. Feeling a hand slip into his, Rory turned to see his wife had finished helping John and had gone to join him. Rory squeezed her hand, taking pleasure in her presence.  
Glancing at them, Sam walked back over to his brother. Rory turned to Amy and kissed her lightly on her head. "How are you doing?" he asked her.  
Amy smiled slightly. "I'm fine..." she said.  
Rory laughed softly, knowing that no one was fine. "This is so...huge," Amy continued. "There are demons and angels and who knows what else. I mean, we get used to things while being with the Doctor, but this is different. This is way more than what we're used to, it's just..." she faltered.  
Rory held her tighter. "Hey, we'll get through this. We always do, this is just another adventure. Yeah, there are more powers than we're used to, but we also have more allies. We have Sherlock, John, the Winchesters, and don't count out the Doctor," he reassured her.  
"The Doctor doesn't even know what we're dealing with," Amy reminded him.  
Rory shrugged. "Does he always know usually?" he said.  
Amy conceded his point, another small smile on her lips. Rory put his hands on her shoulders. "Nothing bad is going to happen. Don't worry, I won't let it."  
Someone cleared their throat behind them. The couple turned, Rory looking down in embarrassment while Amy looked defiantly towards whoever it was. Castiel was standing before them awkwardly, an unsure look on his face. "I'm sorry to interrupt you but we should be going," he said.  
Amy and Rory both chuckled at the look on his face. Finally the group left the room. John and Sherlock in the front; Dean, Sam, Castiel in the middle with the Doctor, Rory and Amy taking up the rear. The demon shouted various comments in a different language at them as they left. Rory wasn't sure of the language, but he was fairly sure that the comments weren't complimentary. "Wait!" she cried out at last. "Are you just going to leave me here?"  
"Yep!" Dean shouted back, not even bothering to slow down.  
The Doctor seemed a bit uneasy with that, but he didn't say anything, just continued walking alongside the Ponds. Amy grabbed his hand and her husband's as well, their arms swinging as they walked down the dirt hall. Dean and Sam moved up to the front of the group, despite John's protests that Dean shouldn't be doing too much. Dean's argument of he was fine was proven when an unlucky demon came across their path. As soon as he walked around the corner Sam had pinned his arms to his sides and Dean's knife was in his gut. The demon was lit orange before most even knew what had happened.  
They didn't come across many demons are their way out. This appeared to be one of the smaller divisions, according to Sherlock, there was most likely many more around the country that were much bigger. Quickly after the first demon encounter, they made it out of the tunnels and into the shack. The sunshine was a most welcome thing to them all. The darkness of the tunnels was depressing, and after learning what happened down there, the darkness had seemed all the more menacing. There was no one in clearing, a fact for which Rory was grateful for, if it seemed a little odd.  
The group walked into the clearing. Sam and Dean had their guns out-The Doctor glaring at them out of the corner of his eye-and were walking to the sides of the group. Despite the peacefulness of the clearing, it seemed the brothers were more likely to look a gift horse in the mouth than Rory was. Perhaps it was just their nature or things that they had seen. Either way, nothing happened as they walked to the tree line. As the case so often in their lives, the peacefulness didn't last very long. Just as the group walked out of the sight of the clearing did they hear something. A voice from behind them:  
"Hello, boys."

Sam whirled at the sound of the voice. It was a voice that he had come to know very well and hate almost as much as Lucifer's. Crowley was standing there, dressed as always in a fine suit. He sauntered closer to them a step, a smirk crossing his features. Dean moved towards him, Sam at his side. "Moose, you look different. You couldn't have gotten taller, that just wouldn't be right. Fate treating you both well?" Crowley said snidely.  
"Crowley. Long time, no annoy," Dean said.  
Crowley turned to look at Dean. "Dean, how I've missed your sarcasm. It's the only quality that suits you," he said.  
The King of Hell turned to observe the rest of their gang. "Well, well, well," he said. "Look who you both have managed to come across. The famous consulting detective and his live-in P.A., and the wandering alien with his newest companions. Misfits beg company, I suppose," he said thoughtfully.  
Dean stiffened his grip on his gun, glaring at the demon. "Oh, I do believe I've hit a sore subject," Crowley said, his English accent somehow adding to insult.  
"What do you want, Crowley?" Sam said tightly.  
"Why do I have to want something to drop in on my favorite hunters? And of course by hated I mean the ones I tend to hate the most," Crowley said almost innocently.  
"Well, we haven't seen you since you attempted to get Kevin to translate the demon tablets, so you've been laying low. Why just not suddenly come visit?" Dean asked.  
Sam noted the rest of the group had remained silent so far. He wasn't the only to notice. "The rest of your friends seem quiet," Crowley noted. "Thank god, if they were as talkative as you and turned out to be as smart ass, I'd just kill the lot of you if only for some peace and quiet. Well maybe not peace, just quiet."  
"Maybe we could help you with that, you fancy your ears much?" Dean snarled.  
"Okay, I think that's quite enough with all the threats, don't you?" the Doctor interrupted suddenly.  
The three of them looked at him incredulously. "Uh, Doc, mind letting us handle this?" Dean said. Sam winced at his brother's usual lack of tact.  
The Doctor glared at him. Dean held his gaze for a moment before dropping it. The Doctor then turned to Crowley. He tilted his head thoughtfully. "So, who are you? You have an accent from the modern United Kingdom, which is interesting, very interesting." He scanned Crowley with the sonic screwdriver while Crowley watched him with a mixture of contempt and amusement. The Doctor frowned at the readings. "You're a demon as well, though more powerful than any other we've come across before," he said slowly.  
"Aw, I'm touched," Crowley said, rolling his eyes. He turned to the Winchesters. "You really should inform your friends more thoroughly, it's almost as if you want this to be more of a suicide mission than usual."  
The Doctor frowned. "You listen here," he said, striding up to Crowley. "I don't like it when my friends are hurt, I don't like it at all. In fact, I hate it, and now you've gone and hurt a couple of my friends. That doesn't put you in good terms with me, and you don't want to deal with me when I'm mad." The Doctor smiled slightly, a smile that was simple but terrifying to Sam. "So, if I were you, I wouldn't be so confident."  
There was a pause. Then Dean grinned, a light in his eyes that Sam hadn't seen in a while. Sam felt a smile spreading across his own face. The Doctor hadn't seemed like much more than a quirky strange man with an odd telephone box, but it was clear he was much, much, more than that. This was a man who was a force that was not to be reckoned with, who would defend his friends to the death, who was someone that had conquered impossible odds before and would do it again.  
Crowley looked the Doctor over once, and then turned to the boys. "I do believe that is my cue for a dramatic exit. Don't get too comfortable, I'm not done yet. And whatever you think you know about what's going on, you don't know half of it. So I wouldn't get too confident, though, I am talking to the Winchesters. See you around," he said, his eyes flashing red for an instant, and then he was gone.  
"Well. I can't say I'm sad to see that piece of scum gone," Dean said. He moved over and clapped the Doctor on his shoulder. "Well done, it's not the easiest thing in the world to intimidate Crowley."  
"Who was that anyway?" Amy spoke up, glancing between the three of them,  
Sherlock answered for them. "Crowley, King of Hell," he said.  
They looked at him. "Isn't the kind of Hell supposed to be Lucifer?" John asked.  
"It's a long story," Sam said quickly.  
"A story we don't have much time for," the Doctor said. "Maybe later though, love to hear it. I always love a good story, and yours seems to be most interesting."  
Dean looked at him. "Yeah," he said slowly. "Very interesting."  
Rory cleared his throat pointedly. "Right," the Doctor said, clapping his hands together. "We have work to do, eh? Let's get on it!"  
After they all had gotten settled in the TARDIS, Sam pulled out his laptop. He resumed his search with the information from Garth about the demonic activity. The Doctor was doing something similar with the console, while Sherlock was going over the information they had already gained. Dean was sitting next to Sam, cleaning his weapons while Amy watched him from a distance. Rory and John were discussing something or other while Cas was pacing on the other side. As far as Sam could tell, the major demonic activities were in small out of the way towns, while the smaller ones were near major cities. That didn't make much sense, as the larger had more people. Unless the demons didn't want to draw notice to themselves.  
Sam noted with alarm that there was a small amount of activity in Washington, D.C., very close to the White House. He didn't know how that was possible without the FBI and Secret Service right there, but perhaps Crowley had turned the right people so they could remain there without suspicion. Sam rubbed his eyes, thinking about the chaos that Crowley could cause turning the right people into demons in the capital. His thoughts drifted to the torture areas underground. Those rooms were what Sherlock and he had come across before the Winchesters separated. Sam hadn't known the true purpose, but it had been obvious that torture and other unspeakable things had gone on there.  
When Sam had awoken after being captured, he had awoken in a small dark room. He hadn't been in one of the major torture rooms, but the room itself wasn't pleasant. There was various liquids on the floor and the walls, symbols on the walls. Sam had been chained to the wall, preventing him from doing anything about the angel repelling symbols. He had been working at the chains for a while when he heard noises outside of the room. Sam had frozen, wondering who it could be. The noises had indicated people moving stealthily and with an attempt to be quiet. Demons wouldn't have cared, in fact, many of them would have tried to make a lot of noise to startle and frighten their victims.  
Sam had attempted to make a weapon out of a bone that he had found. It made him queasy, but it was better than nothing. He waited, silent, as shadows appeared in front of the door. The light was very small, probably one or two lanterns along the walls every once in a while. There had been a noise at the door, a noise whose sound could only be described as sonic. Hope had flared in Sam, hardly daring to believe it as the door swung open. All the same, he prepared to attack. The Doctor had walked through, along with Castiel. The rescue had worked, with the Doctor getting him out of his chains and then they went to find Dean.  
That's when things had gone downhill. They heard demons behind, and with Sam worried about his brother Cas had volunteered to go after them. The Doctor didn't look happy about the idea of them splitting up, and neither was Sam, but there was no other choice. After he had left they picked up the pace in their search for Dean. There weren't many places to go, so they found him quickly. Dean had been slumped in the hallway, moaning under his breath. The pain etched across his face was all too clear that something horrible was wrong. Sam had run to him, shouting his name. They had helped him back into the room, which was even more disgusting than the room Sam had been staying in.  
Cas had come in response to Sam's prayers, appearing suddenly right next to his friends. There had been worry and panic in his eyes as he looked at Dean, and Sam had felt a new fear, the fear that this time perhaps Cas wouldn't be able to help, that his healing skills had been pushed too far. The fear was invalid; however, Cas had been able to heal Dean. Dean had slept for an amount of time, and Sam had rested easy. Even though his brother was healed, Sam still felt annoyance towards the rest of the group. They shouldn't have ditched the brothers, not when they didn't know completely what was going on there. However, they did, and Dean had been seriously injured. The rescue was well-timed and Sam was grateful, however, that didn't them a free pass.  
These thoughts wouldn't help anyone though, and Sam focused on figuring out where to go next. Sherlock had suggested that they go to as many of the operations as possible, destroying them to slowly cripple Crowley's power. It had seemed a good as plan as any, so the group had agreed. Not all of them would go to each location, however. Seven or eight people in one group was way too many at once. It had been decided that Dean and Sam would each lead a group. The Doctor would be managing the TARDIS, traveling between each group to assist as needed. Sam suspected the Doctor was slightly relieved, as he hated violence and probably wouldn't have wanted to see what they had to do.  
Dean's group was to consist of Sherlock, Castiel when he was around, and Rory while Sam, Amy, and John were in the other. Sam hadn't been entirely pleased being separated from his brother, but he knew that it was more logically to have at least one person who had dealt with demons before in each group. He wasn't the only one who wasn't pleased with being separated with their friends. Rory hadn't been the most supportive of leaving Amy, and while John didn't say anything, Sam could tell the army doctor wasn't the most comfortable with leaving the consulting detective's side.  
However there was logic in the choice of the groups. There were two areas that they had decided to infiltrate. One was in New Jersey, near a small town called Jackson. The other was in Oregon, again near a small town. Sam's group was to take Oregon, Dean's New Jersey. The plan was simple: go to the town, find out where the demons were hiding out, dispose of them or their operations in anyway deemed fit, and not get killed. The last one was stressed the most by the Doctor. "I don't want to have to go around rescuing you lot when I already have a job to do!" he exclaimed.  
There wasn't much to take with them. Sam and Dean had their weapons; the rest of them weren't as comfortable with taken one. John had his own revolver whose bullets were replaced with those of rock salt. Sherlock's gun was replaced as well, while Amy was given a knife or two. Rory had a pistol as well as the knives he had slipped into his pocket back in the first lair. However, only he knew about the knives. The Doctor had insisted on his companions (not to the faces of the others) not involving themselves in violence as much as possible. "What would I tell your daughter," he said, smiling, but with something shining in his eyes. He pulled the Ponds into a huge hug, them laughing slightly.  
Sam went over the basics of demon fighting, the salt barriers, and the design for the devil traps. He even taught them the basics to exorcise, writing down the spell and teaching them how to pronounce. However, because a Winchester was going to be with both groups, there wasn't going to be much need for it, but they'd rather prepare for worst. Soon, it was time to leave. Dean's group was being dropped off first, then Sam's. Just before they left, Sam walked up to his brother.

"Hey," he said.  
Dean looked up. "Hey," he said.  
"You know, be careful out there," Sam said. "The way things are going, it'd be a shame not to have someone watching my back."  
"Yeah, same to you," Dean said, clapping him on the back. Sam nodded, and then turned back to his group.  
"All right everybody, go out, do your thing," the Doctor said, flapping his hands at them.  
With the last waves of good-bye, the first group left. Then the second, until the Doctor was alone. His smile never slipped until the last person walked out of the TARDIS door and that door shut with a thud. Then it disappeared entirely. Despite how well the plan had seemed, the Doctor had a sense that something was wrong. "Oh, of course something's going to go wrong," he muttered to himself. "Let's just make sure it's not as bad as it could be."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Amy fingered the knife in her pocket nervously. She'd never show it outright, but Amy was not in the least worried of what was to come. She had seen her fair share of strange things, how could she not? Traveling with the Doctor like she did had her own unique experiences. However, this was something new that Amy had never encountered before. That being said, she was determined to treat it as she would everything else. And she wasn't alone. So why did she feel this unyielding sense of uneasiness that she had been feeling since the whole matter had begun.  
They were somewhere in Oregon, somewhere near Portland Sam had said. Amy had never been to the U.S. before, so she wasn't quite sure where that was. However, it was beautiful here. The forests were thick and lush, green everywhere. The weather was changing constantly, or as constant as weather would change. It was much different from the last forest they had been in, while that was one was calm this one was wild. Amy found that she much preferred it as opposed to the one before. _A shame that demons are here desecrating it_, Amy thought.  
They walked along in silence for most of the way. There wasn't much to say, really, Amy reflected. They were on a mission to destroy demons creating other demons. And they were still on planet Earth. Sam was obviously nonplussed about this whole affair. He had obviously seen something similar otherwise he surely would have been freaking out. John also seemed calm perhaps that was a result of living with Sherlock for so long.  
The walk to the town wasn't that long and before long the three of them were here. Amy walked over to Sam. "So, what's the plan?" she asked under breath.  
Sam looked at them. "We need to find out where the demons are, so what we should do is try to find out what area the disappearances are taking place-"  
"Disappearances?" John repeated.  
Sam nodded. "Yes, disappearances. There were disappearances last time and there will be disappearances now."  
John conceded that he had a point. "Okay, so how do we do that?" Amy asked.  
Sam looked at them. "Which one of you is the better liar?" he asked slowly.  
Amy and John looked at each other. "I think John should do it," Amy said quickly. "You've lied before, and you were in the military, so you've got the right bearing or whatever."  
Sam turned to John. "That true?"  
John drew himself up to his full height. He was still much shorter than Sam. "Yes, sir."  
Sam smiled slightly. "All right then." Sam reached into his pocket and pulled out an idea. John took at it, looking at curiously. "Forest rangers?" he repeated.  
Sam shrugged. "Small town, unlikely the FBI would be drawn in so soon, unless the number of disappearances were drastic."  
"What shall I do?" Amy asked, worried that she would just be left behind.  
There was a grin on Sam's face as he looked at her. "What I need you to do is to observe."  
Amy sighed inwardly with relief. "Observe. That I can do. What am I looking for?"  
"Anyone suspicious. Anything that just seems a little bit off, and especially look for anyone who's asking questions or watching people. Then we might have an idea of what we're looking for," Sam said.  
"Why don't we be like Porthos from The Three Musketeers and just get ourselves captured and break out?" Amy suggested halfheartedly.  
The other men turned to look at her. "One: hell no. And two: that would never work in real life. And three: The Three Musketeers? Really?" Sam said.  
Amy shrugged. "What? It looked interesting in the previews," she said defensively. "And besides, a friend wanted to watch it."  
"Ah," Sam said knowingly.  
John shook his head at the pair of them. "Why don't we get a head start, no?" he said.  
"Right," Amy followed them into the borders of the town. It was a small, quaint town, not unlike the small older towns that were back near her home. There was a group of kids playing in the river that ran through the center of the town, while some of the elderly were playing chess in the shaded grove. A couple of mothers were walking with their babies in strollers and chatting while who Amy assumed to be their husbands walked behind them, loudly exclaiming with wild arm gestures. Amy felt a twinge of sadness as she watched them, sadness for her lost time with her daughter and the life she could never have.  
John and Sam walked to the building that could have been none other than the sheriff's station. Amy watched them walk in, something different in the way they presented themselves. They were more authoritative, more disciplined in their bearing. If she didn't know better, Amy might have believed they were some kind of government officials. Looking around for a good place to sit, Amy spotted a bench that was right next to the water under the shade of an oak tree. Amy wandered over to the bench and sat, looking around her.  
There were a couple other people in the town going about their business. There was a small bakery that was open which had smells wafting out of it that were beyond delicious to Amy. A couple that were holding hands were walking into it, chatting excitedly. A group of teenage boys were walking down the street as well, heading after a group of girls their same age. By the looks of things, they were trying to get their attention but the girls were paying them no mind. Amy figured that the boys weren't going to get anywhere with them tonight.  
Amy jumped when someone sat down next to her. "Beautiful day isn't it?" someone asked. It was a man with a blue coat that was clearly outdated, perhaps world war two? He had dark brown hair that was slightly disheveled and a grin of his face.  
"Well, it was. I don't know about anymore," Amy said slightly cross at being disturbed.  
"Ouch," the man put his hand over his heart as if wounded. "Tell me, where are you from?"  
Amy looked at him. His grin was extremely flirty, and though he was good-looking, he wasn't Amy's type. Besides, she was Rory's now and she was more than content with that. "Not heaven, I can tell you that much," she said, turning away, hoping he would get the hint.  
"Oh, a naughty one, I like that," the man turned to him. "Well, not going to lie, that eliminates about a quarter of the pickup lines I was going to use, but I guess you don't want to hear the rest either."  
Amy held up her left hand, her wedding ring glinting in the sunlight. "Ah," the man said, looking at it. Then he shrugged, saying: "Well, if that stops you, fine by me."  
Amy rolled her eyes, ignoring him and hoping he would go away. Taking a quick glance away to make sure she hadn't missed anything, she saw that one of the boys was talking to one of the girls while the rest watched from a distance. Perhaps he would get somewhere after all.  
"What's your name?" the man asked again.  
Amy turned to him. "I don't know. Who is having the pleasure of asking me?" she asked.  
The man extended his hand. "Jack. Jack Harkness. In fact, the full name is Captain," he said, winking.  
"Captain? Of what?" Amy said, accepting his hand.  
"Well, that's a long story," he said. "And now I do believe I get the pleasure of being introduced to you."  
"Amy. Amy Pond," Amy said.  
"Amy Pond. If it weren't for the ring on your finger I would surely be hopelessly in love, but alas, my heart doesn't swing that way," he said ruefully.  
"Shame for you," Amy smiled.  
"Oh-hoh, feisty we are," Jack said, slightly surprised. "It's interesting, I knew a redhead like you who was feisty as well."  
"What happened to her?" Amy asked.  
"To who? Donna? Amnesia. There was a horrible accident, head trauma, that sort of thing," Jack said sadly. Amy narrowed her eyes; Jack wouldn't meet her eyes completely, and she suspected there was something else to the story that he was leaving out.  
"So, what brings you to town?" Amy asked instead.  
"My friend wanted to come here. She's a fan of the smaller out of the way towns, and something happened recently so I'm humoring her," Jack said. "What about you? One of those couple retreat things but more independent?"  
"Oh no," Amy shuddered. "No, nothing like that. Kind of the same thing actually, vacation with friends. Won't be here long, we're staying somewhere else."  
"Interesting," John was about to say more when there was a shout. "Jack!" a woman with dark hair called, waving him over. "Ah, that's my cue," he said, standing. "Amy Pond, it was a pleasure," he said, extending his hand once more.  
"It was," Amy said, slightly sorry to see him go.  
He tipped an invisible hat before hurrying off to his friend. Amy watched them for a moment, and then turned back to her contemplation of the rest of the people. The teenagers had gone, though a movie was starting soon apparently, therefore it wasn't hard to guess where at least some of them had gone. It wasn't that late, so there were a nice amount of people out. It wasn't warm either, so when Amy spotted someone in shorts and a t-shirt, it stood out.  
Keeping her eye on him as he walked around, peering into shop windows, Amy pulled out a pair of sunglasses on, therefore making it easier for her to watch without being detected. Luckily she wasn't the only one with sunglasses on, for it was a bright day despite it not being very hot. There wasn't anything unusual about the man other than the way he dressed for this time of year. The stared intently into the shop window, and because it was a dress other clothing store, Amy assumed he wasn't really looking into the windows. More likely he was checking out everything behind him in his reflection.  
The guy had sandy hair, around the same color as Rory's. His shorts were simple and tan, while his shirt was plain white. Almost as if he had come out of a mental ward or something similar, if there was such a place in a town like this. The man didn't do anything else strange, just wandered from shop window to shop window. Eventually he gave and up and went to sit in the grove where the elderly had been playing chess. Sitting there, Amy watched as he watched the people walking by. His gaze followed a few, only people who were alone and none for very long.  
He continued doing this for a good twenty minutes before Amy saw John and Sam emerge from the sheriff's building. She waved a bit, trying not to attract the attention of the man. John noticed her and pointed her out to Sam. They began to walk over slowly, not to seem as if they were directly going over to her. They reached her, and she invited them down to sit. "You guys were in there a while," she observed.  
"The sheriff didn't have much to say about the disappearances, but he had a slot of complain about," Sam said wryly.  
"So there were disappearances?" Amy asked.  
"Yes, about sixteen of them so far," John said.  
"Sixteen?" Amy's jaw nearly dropped with shock. "And the FBI or anyone hasn't been involved?"  
Sam shook his head. "The sheriff was proud and kept things quiet so as to not attract attention," he said disgustedly.  
The annoyance was shared by the three of them for a moment before Amy remembered her own part in this. "Check out that guy," she said softly, gesturing subtly so as not to attract attention.  
Sam raised his eyebrow. "He must be immune to the cold or just crazy," he said. "And then of course he could be something more..."  
"Are demons immune to the cold?" John asked.  
"Not usually, but perhaps it has something going on with the disappearances," Sam said thoughtfully.  
"We should go ask!" Amy exclaimed. Before they could stop her, Amy jumped up and walked over to the guy. "Hey," she said. "Aren't you cold?"  
The man jumped, not expecting someone to come up to him. He glanced down, only just seeming to notice what he was wearing. "Oh...no, not really," he said. "That's odd, usually I'm always freezing."  
"Interesting," Amy said.  
"When did this happen?" They both looked to see that John and Sam had moved over to join them.  
Amy raised her eyebrows in annoyance at them while the man just looked startled. "Um...I'm not really sure...couple of hours, I guess," he stammered.  
"Where were you today? Anywhere specific?" Sam pressed.  
"I was at home. Look, buddy, what's with all the questions?" the man demanded, a hint of annoyance entering his voice.  
"No more questions, I'm sorry," Sam raised his hands in surrender. He and John turned away and began to walk down towards the river, talking softly to each other. The man watched them leave suspiciously. Then he stood. "I'm going to head back home, have a nice day," he said, a tad cold.  
"Wait, I didn't get your name!" Amy said quickly.  
The man looked at her suspiciously. "Jeff," he said. "Jeff Rogers." And without waiting for her response he hurried off, casting glances around him.  
Amy watched him go. "Bloody hell," she muttered to herself. Amy started walking briskly. As soon as she was in arm's reach of the boys she punched them both in the arm.  
"Whoa, what was that for?" Sam asked, rubbing his arm.  
"You've got one hell of a punch," John said, mirroring Sam's motion.  
"What were you two thinking? You just went up to him and started interrogating the guy!" Amy exclaimed.  
"Well, you didn't do anything differently," John pointed out.  
Amy glared at him. "Yes, but at least I didn't randomly walk up and speak; I made my presence known first. And I didn't interrupt his conversation with another person after clearly eavesdropping!"  
"She has a point," Sam muttered.  
Amy perked up, straightening her posture. "Naturally," she said.  
"Where did the guy go?" John asked, shading his eyes.  
"His name's Jeff, and he went back home," Amy said.  
Sam perked up himself. "He said when he started feeling absurdly hot that he was at home! Do you guys still see him?"  
Amy raised her eyebrow. "He's right there, and why? Are we going to follow him?"  
Sam didn't respond; instead he started walking in the direction that Jeff was in. He waited until he got a good distance behind so that he wouldn't be noticed and that he wasn't too far away before he slowed down. John and Amy looked at each other. "We've both done stranger things," John pointed out, shrugging.  
"First time I've ever followed someone home," Amy muttered. John chuckled quietly before catching up to Sam. Amy had no choice but to follow.  
"So the guy suddenly gets all warm and fuzzy inside, what does that have to do with anything?" Amy asked.  
"Well, first of all, from the looks of things, he lives exactly in the middle of where the other disappearances took place. Also, no one wakes up one morning and can walk outside in the middle of November in shorts and a t-shirt in Oregon," Sam said.  
Amy fell silent, not willing to argue the point. Jeff continued walking, not glancing behind him. They walked on for ten minutes before coming in front of one of the older houses. It was a beautiful house, the brickwork was weathered but it had a comfortable look about it. The front porch was simple, no flowers but a chair and a table in the middle, perfect for sitting a reading on a nice day. There was a small garden in the front next to the stairs, though no flowers were in season. A window was open on the second floor, and the curtains flowed out with the wind. It was an extremely beautiful house.  
Jeff walked up to the door and dug his keys out of his pocket. From their view across the road, they saw him drop the keys. He bent over, then grabbed his head and cried out in pain. His head snapped towards them, and even from across the street Amy could see his eyes turn pitch black. He grinned, and then turned back to the house. He got in the house and slammed the door shut, the sound echoing down the empty street. "Well, that confirms it," John said.  
"We need to get in the house," Sam said.  
Amy sighed. "How did I know you were going to say that," she muttered.  
"Look, it's not going to be easy, but we got no better leads right now," Sam said.  
"What about the other disappearances?" John asked, though he seemed resigned to the fact that they would indeed need to go into the demon's house.  
"They all disappeared in this area. If I had a map, I'd be willing to bet that this house is right in the middle of the area," Sam said.  
"So this demon is kidnapping everyone, what are we going to do when we break into his house? Just look around for people to free?" Amy asked.  
"I don't think he's the one kidnapping people," John said suddenly.  
They looked at him, Amy with surprise and Sam with a hint of agreement. "I mean," John said. "He could have easily taken us out at any time, but he didn't. And he didn't have the same attitude as the last demons, if anything, he didn't seem as confident..." his voice trailed off.  
Sam nodded, picking up his train of thought. "As if he was newly turned," he finished.  
Amy turned back towards the house. "Well, what are we waiting for?" she said.  
Sam put a hand on her shoulder. "Easy, we can't just go barging in," he said. "We should wait until nightfall, that way we have the cover of darkness. Generally not a smart move to break into someone's house in the middle of the day."  
"All right, fine, there's no need to take that tone with me," Amy said.  
John looked around the street. "Normally, I'd agree with you, Sam," he said. "But there's no one out and it's almost dark, I think we should go now, before the demons form their own plan against us."  
Sam tilted his head, thinking. "I don't know..."  
"It's better than standing here wasting time; we need to move on after this, remember?" Amy said.  
"Yes, but I'd rather be a little late than get us all killed!" Sam said sharply.  
Amy wilted slightly, Sam's anger frightening her slightly. A look of regret passed over his face. "Sorry, I shouldn't have snapped like that," he said, rubbing a hand over his eyes.  
Sam sighed, closing his eyes. "Let's wait an hour or so," he said. "Amy, you don't fight, and John, I don't doubt your abilities, however you haven't had much experience fighting demons. That way we get some darkness and we don't want that long."  
John and Amy nodded, accepting the compromise. Then there was nothing to do but wait. Sam spent the time teaching Amy a little more about how to fight with her knife. John observed the lesson, taking note of what pointers Sam pointed out. He knew how to use his weapon and would be able to handle himself in the fight, but Sam was less certain about Amy. The hour passed by quickly and they group moved back to their position in front of the house. The house itself hadn't changed at all with the exception of a light on the top floor of the house. The window hadn't been shut, though the wind had died so the curtains weren't flowing outside anymore.  
"All right," Sam whispered. "I'll climb in through the top window there and then head downstairs and unlock the door. Then we'll tear the place apart."  
They walked over to the house. Sam turned to Amy. "Do not leave John's side," he said, looking her in the eyes. Sam turned to John and nodded, a gesture which John returned. The two of them watched as Sam turned and walked quickly to the side of the house. Amy and John went by the porch, crouching low so they wouldn't be seen by anyone. The minutes felt like hours. Amy listened as hard as she could, but she couldn't hear anything inside of the house. Occasionally she heard a small thud or a crash, but besides that nothing.  
After an excruciatingly long time, Amy and John heard the front door open quietly. John raised his head slowly, taking a look at who opened it. Then he tapped Amy's shoulder and stood up. They walked quickly up the steps over to Sam, who gestured for them to hurry. There were a couple of cuts on his face and he was favoring his left arm, however that seemed to be the extent of the damage. Sam held the door for them. "I took the quickest way here, there may still be a couple demons," he whispered. "The two I came across weren't loud enough to alert the others, but they won't be deceived long."  
The three of them walked quickly yet silently as possible. Sam taking point, Amy in the middle with John watching the back. There wasn't a sign of any other demons. As soon as they cleared the house, the three of them split up. Looking for anything that could lead to any area which could be used for malevolent purposes. It was perhaps the simplest thing to find. John found it; there was a trapdoor under a rung in the back room. Sam and John climbed down while Amy kept watch. There was a part of her that was secretly relieved, outwardly slightly annoyed. They didn't take long. There were several scuffles, some shouting, however Amy didn't hear a huge fight. That was one thing in the whole mess to be grateful for.  
Eventually John and Sam came back up the ladder. "Let's go," Sam said, clapping her on the shoulder. "We have more work to do."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8 **

Sherlock walked beside Dean, taking in his surroundings. There wasn't much to observe. It was the standard small town, buildings, small businesses gradually being over-run by the larger chain businesses. There were a couple of shifty people standing in the shadows, teenagers, one girl and two guys. They were handing each other things, most likely illegal substances. Across the road a hospital was being built. Sherlock couldn't help but feel a sense of irony in the situation. It was early in the morning, so there weren't many cars on the road. However, Sherlock could hear in this distance the sound of school buses pulling and stopping, picking up teenagers to take them to school.  
They walked along the sidewalk towards a small outlet of small businesses. There was a small bagel shop, an ice cream parlor, a thrift shop. Nothing that special. There weren't any cars in the parking lot, indicating that no one was there to open the shops. As they walked past the shops, Sherlock noticed something on the ground. "Wait," he said as he turned and moved quickly over to the front of the ice cream parlor. Rory and Dean looked at each other briefly before following him. Kneeling down, Sherlock ran his fingers along the cement in front of him. His fingers came away with a yellow powder. "Sulfur," Dean said unnecessarily, perhaps for Rory's benefit.  
Rory moved to the front of the thrift shop while Dean the bagel shop. They came back shaking their heads. "So this is where the demons are," Dean said skeptically. He remembered Lucifer saying how he in fact burned cold, several years ago when he and Sam were attempting to force him back into the Pit, but Dean hadn't really taken him at his word.  
"That seems almost too easy," Rory said, casting a wary glance around.  
Sherlock looked at him. "A lot of things are convenient while traveling with the Doctor, this is no different. The Doctor went as close as he could to the energies, and it happened to be a mere twenty feet from where we landed. Let's not question it at the moment," he said.  
Sherlock watched as Dean moved to the front of the shop. He peered in, placing his hand up to the glass. "There's no one in there," he said.  
Sherlock strode up to the door. He tried opening it, but it wouldn't move. "Locked," he said briefly. Sherlock stepped back, allowing Dean to step up to the door and pick at the lock.  
The hunter was good; he managed to pick the lock in less than a minute. They moved inside quickly before someone noticed. Rory took out a gun he had gotten from Dean while Sherlock took out his own. Dean had already had his out the moment they walked in the door. Sherlock knew that the rounds were filled with salt, but he wasn't completely confident on how well they would work. However, this was all they had.  
The three of them walked slowly forward, keeping an eye out for any movement and an ear out for any sound. There was nothing. The shop itself was small, so it didn't take long for them to check the whole shop. "There's nothing here," Dean said.  
"Not necessarily," Sherlock said, looking around. "This is one of the demons lairs, so there must be some way to get underground in here."  
"Or it could be the local shop where the demons like to hang," Rory said.  
"Demons don't 'just hang'," Dean scoffed. "They just plot about the best ways to torture humanity and to make life inconvenient for us."  
While Rory and Dean continued to discuss demons, Sherlock turned his attention to the walls. There most likely was a trap door, perhaps into one of the other stores. Or maybe in the floor that would lead underground, much like the other "lair". However, there were no discernible marks that would indicate movement of anything at all. Therefore nothing was scrapped along the floor, so leading underground was still an option. However there were no rugs to hide a trapdoor, nothing covering any inch of the floor. Behind the counter was nothing out of the ordinary. The back was empty, the front was standard. That left only one option-  
Sherlock glanced up at the ceiling. _There we go_. Up on the ceiling behind the pillar that was on the counter was a cord. Long enough so that someone of an above average height could reach it, but not thick enough to be noticed without directly looking for it. Sherlock walked over to it and grabbed the rope, pulling it down slightly. There wasn't much resistance; it was obviously used regularly. Dean and Rory walked over to him, waiting to grab if anything came tumbling fast.  
The panel in the ceiling was the only thing that dropped forward at first. It hung open, swinging slightly. Then a ladder came shooting down, landing just above the floor. The three of them jumped back, startled. Dean took out his flashlight and shinned it up. There was nothing that Sherlock could see, but he was sure that something was up there. "All right, shall we?" Dean said, reaching for the ladder.  
Dean began to climb up with Sherlock following, Rory after. When Sherlock stood up, he almost hit his head on the ceiling. Dean had the same problem, though Rory had an easier time of it. After his eyes adjusted, Sherlock scanned the room. Despite appearances, there was a lengthy space up above the store. Judging from the space, Sherlock figured that the pace extended above the other stores. There space was very large for an attic and had a high ceiling to someone of an average height. The floor was boarded and finished; obviously who had done this had built it with the intention of spending much time up here. The temperature wasn't too bad; Sherlock spied a thermostat on the wall opposite them.  
After checking the walls and ceiling, Sherlock spied the tell-tale markings of the demon's work. "This is the right place," he observed.  
"No shit, Sherlock," Dean muttered.  
Sherlock ignored him, though Rory grinned slightly. They spread out, sweeping the room for anything useful. There were some candles on an altar in the rear of the space. Sherlock walked over to them and tested the wicks. Still warm. "They just left recently," he called to the others.  
Dean frowned. "How, we were downstairs for a good amount of time and would have noticed them leaving."  
"Exactly, not unless they can teleport," Sherlock said.  
Dean hesitated, thinking. Now it was Sherlock's turn to frown. "Can they?"  
"Some can, I don't know about the majority," Dean said slowly. "It kind of depends, I suppose."  
Rory sighed. "Great," he said. "So they could have just gone right past us and we would never have known."  
They turned back to the room, a sense of frustration already in the air. Sherlock walked over to the wall, noticing every detail. This was a new building, he realized; the wood had been freshly cut fairly recently. Sherlock looked at the wood, turning around. His mind went to how they got there. The demons in this area assumed no one looked up. Sherlock cast his gaze upward. There up on the ceiling were wooden planks all laid out in a familiar design. Dean and Rory noticed where he was looking and cast their own gazes upwards as well.  
"Well," Rory said.  
The boards were all laid out in various symbols. There were of course angel dispelling symbols, but the one in the center was the one that was the most curious to Sherlock. It was laid out in the shape that Dean and Sam had taken pains to teach to the rest of the group.  
"Why would a group of demons create an elaborate devil's trap on the ceiling?" Rory wondered.  
"Perhaps this wasn't just for turning humans into demons..." Sherlock murmured. "Perhaps it was also for something more."  
Sherlock walked the length of the space, his mind turning. There were other signs along the walls, other details that the casual observer would miss. "Demons aren't trustworthy to humans and other creatures, but are they trustworthy about each other?"  
Dean and Rory watched as he paced, talking faster as his thoughts came. "What if they didn't trust this assignment, what if they didn't trust the chain of command? They are dishonest with everyone else, surely that breeds suspicion among the ranks, and if the King of Hell was just a demon who worked his way up when Lucifer fell, then why would he trust the other demons not to do the same thing to him?"  
Dean's eyebrows shot up as he heard Sherlock talking. Sherlock vaguely thought that he was probably wondering how Sherlock knew all this. Sherlock dismissed the thought quickly, focusing his mind of what was important. "What if Crowley set up a small base that is out of the way, no one would suspect with everything else going on. Then there's the occasional rowdy demon, someone who's not bending to bow as quickly as the rest of them. Then Crowley sends him or her down here to make sure the demon knows how to bow. But what happens when those who do the teaching need to be taught? What if they started to distrust their leader and no one but themselves?"  
"So they make up a little insurance, a little precaution that only they know about. Something they can do if they feel threatened. That is everyone's first instinct, is it not? To survive. They buy themselves some protection, granting them a sense of security. So what went wrong..."  
Dean walked over to stand by Sherlock's side. "Most likely one of the bastards chickened out and ran to Crowley," he said thoughtfully.  
"Perhaps..." Sherlock spoke softly.  
"Dean, Sherlock," Rory called. He was at the far end of the space, kneeling down.  
The two of them walked over to him, Sherlock wondering what Rory had found that he had looked over. There was a small alcove in the wood open, only big enough to host something long and thin. Inside was a silver blade, nothing grand about it but Sherlock got a feeling of power behind it. Dean sucked in his breath quickly, clearly recognizing the blade. "An angel blade," he muttered.  
_An angel blade_, Sherlock mulled the words over. "Why would demons have an angel blade?" Rory asked.  
"The blade can kill practically anything, perhaps it was just something they came across and they had no idea what it was," Dean suggested.  
"How rare is an angel blade?" Sherlock asked him.  
"Only angels carried them, so pretty rare," Dean said.  
"Then how would they come across one?" Rory asked, looking at it. "Unless..." his voice trailed off.  
"They got it from an angel," Dean finished his sentence.  
Sherlock turned and observed the room again. Though there was the same torture instruments seen in the other lair, and there was the demon traps, the area seemed...different. Now that he was looking at it in a new light, different things were coming to his attention. _What if..._he thought. Dean and Rory didn't seem to notice how involved in his thoughts Sherlock was. Dean picked up the angel blade and slipped it in his jacket. Rory moved to look for more panels while Dean started looking for anything else they missed. Sherlock watched them as the pieces slowly came together. Although parts were missing, it was beginning to make more sense.  
There was a crash from downstairs. The trio froze, listening. There wasn't any more noise except for a faint sloshing noise. Then they all smelled it. Gasoline. Then came the unmistakable sound of a match lighting. "Oh crap," Dean muttered.  
Dean ran towards the ladder. Smoke was beginning to come up, making it extremely difficult to see. "There's still a way out to the back!" he shouted towards the others.  
Rory ran after him, Sherlock on his heels. Taking one last look around the room, committing every detail to memory, Sherlock slid down the ladder. The flames roared, the heat as intense as if Sherlock was on fire himself. He could hear the others coughing as they tried to make it to the door. Dean was at the door itself, trying to force it open. They crowded the door, desperately trying to get away from the fire. The fire was spreading slowly, thank God. Whoever had done this had spread the gasoline only in the front of the store, perhaps hoping they wouldn't be intelligent enough to realize there was a back door. That was a poor mistake on the part of whoever had done this, Sherlock reflected.  
Rory and Dean were both trying to force the door open. "Come on, come on," Dean grunted, straining against the metal. Sherlock turned away, scanning the front of the room for another way out. The door was obviously not going to budge, perhaps locked from the outside. In the front of the store there were several long folded up tables leaning against the wall closest to Sherlock. Thinking quickly, Sherlock moved to grab one. "Dean! Rory!" he shouted, grabbing their attention from their fruitless efforts.  
"What the hell are you doing?" Dean shouted.  
Sherlock threw one of the tables onto the flames, attempting to make a sort of bridge or barrier. Dean, sensing what he was trying to do, grabbed a table. He had a look on his face that said he was sure this wasn't going to work but there was no other option for a desperate man. Rory watched them incredulously for a moment before helping. Within moments they had a small bridge of sorts of tables. Luckily whatever material the tables were made of didn't burn easily. Dean whipped out his gun and shot the windows in front of the area. Coughing on the smoke, he stepped onto the bridge, his sleeve over his mouth. Sherlock had tied his scarf around his mouth while Rory was also holding his sleeve up. They flinched as a bit of pillar began to fall.  
_The gasoline work here was shoddy at best_, Sherlock thought. Though perhaps it was a fact to be grateful for. Not every day did the enemy try to burn you down but only burn the front areas of the store and counter. Dean made it across the small bridge; thankfully the walk was short because of the store's small size. He jumped through the window, rolling on the pavement outside. Rory followed, walking faster as the fire began to spread farther with more ferocity. Sherlock walked behind him, stepping carefully on the tables.  
Rory made it out, coughing and running away from the blaze. Sherlock ran after him, reaching Dean just as the store exploded. The impact of the blast threw them forward a fair distance, perhaps fifteen feet Sherlock estimated. "There was a propane tank or something else of that sort," he spoke aloud. "They weren't as stupid as they appeared."  
"Well, that's a relief," Dean said sarcastically.  
The three of them sat there for a moment, watching the blaze as it spread to the rest of the outlet. "We should go before the firemen show up," Rory said, standing.  
Reminded that two of them weren't supposed to be in the country and one of them was wanted in several states, they hurried off towards the trees on the other side of the road. There they rested for several minutes, breathing in the cool oxygen. Luckily the smoke intact hadn't been too bad. They would probably have a cough and maybe a scratchy throat the next few days, but nothing life-threatening. Soon the firemen arrived, alarms blaring. By this point several onlookers and come across the fire, one of them having called it in. They watched from afar, filming on their phones and chatting excitedly. The police were there was as well; helping to keep the crowd that was beginning to form under control.  
No one had been hurt, though many people seemed shaken. It would appear that the ice cream shop had been there for many years and many people had considered in a local legend of sorts. Sherlock watched their body language, the way they looked, even reading their lips if they were close enough. He figured the demons must have been quite busy, dealing with the shadier business as well as an ice cream parlor on the side. "How many of the people there were demons?" Rory asked, his thoughts apparently following along the same lines as Sherlock's.  
"Not many, perhaps three at the most," Sherlock said.  
"Probably to help their cover they hired others to watch the shop while they did their special skills upstairs," Dean said. "Hire teenagers, get a decent radio set, no one will hear a thing."  
"Especially if the room upstairs was sound proofed," Sherlock pointed out.  
"Was it?" Dean asked absently.  
He was watching a figure in the distance. Too far away to be seen clearly, the figure watched the flames. It was clearly a male in a suit, but beyond that Sherlock couldn't discern. The figure watched the flames for some moments before turning to them. If he were closer, Sherlock would have been sure that the figure's gaze would be locked with his own. Then the figure turned and in the space of time it took for Sherlock to blink, the figure was gone.  
"Who was that?" Rory spoke up; his voice indicating that he had seen him disappear as well.  
"Angel or demon," Dean said, anger in his voice.  
Sherlock supposed that in the opinions of the Winchesters, with Castiel being one of the clear expectations, there was not much of a difference between angels and demons to them. One day he would love to sit down and learn all there was about the Winchesters, their travels and the creatures they hunt. But now was not the time. "We need to get back to the Doctor," Sherlock said, turning to the others.  
Rory started to pull out his phone, but before he could dial, a voice spoke up. "Well done, boys."  
They whirled around, coming face to face with the King of Hell. "Crowley," Dean growled.  
"That was you over there," Rory said accusingly.  
"Of course not," Crowley said dismissively. "It's too far away from the action. I was in the middle of the blaze, of course."  
"Then who was that?" Sherlock asked. Dean glanced at him as if to say, _now isn't the time,_ but Sherlock ignored him.  
Crowley shrugged. "Time might tell," he said. "I won't tell you, that's something you can be sure of."  
"So what are you doing here?" Dean interrupted, calling Crowley's attention back to him.  
"For one thing, you just burned down one of my special areas of operation," Crowley snapped. "That warrants a bit of attention, don't you think?"  
"What exactly are you planning here?" Dean asked. "Why are you trying to create demons, what's going on?"  
Crowley looked at him witheringly. "You really think I'm going to tell you my mastermind plan?" he said, sneering.  
Dean shrugged, his glare never wavering. "I'm here to tell you to back off. I know there's no way for you to get it into your thick skulls that that might be a better option than pursuing this crazy quest of yours, but if I were you, I'd let it rest," Crowley said, turning to look each of them in the eyes individually.  
"And why would we do that?" Sherlock asked.  
"So you don't do something stupid even more than you already do and get yourself killed," Crowley said flatly. "If the rest of you are anything like the Winchesters, you're stupid, far too brave and far too heroic for your own good. Not to mention having an eagerness for self-sacrifice."  
Dean bristled at his words, but didn't say anything. "Now, I'm not in a good mood here. One of my best operations has just been burned down and now there's a ton of paperwork and other nonsense I need to take care of. So, if I were you, I'd go run to your friends and rethink what exactly you are going to do in this situation," Crowley said.  
Before the rest of them could say anything, Crowley had disappeared. "Son of a bitch..." Dean muttered.  
Rory turned to the rest of the group. "What should we do?" he asked.  
"We shall do what he says, at least partly. Regroup, and then discuss our next course of action," Sherlock said.  
"What do we have to discuss? He doesn't want us to burn these things to the ground, let's burn them to go the ground," Dean said.  
"We still need to talk to the rest of the team," Rory said firmly.  
Dean conceded the point, though it was clear he'd rather go off and "gank" more monsters instead of planning on how to kill them. Sherlock turned to Rory. "Do you have your mobile with you to contact the Doctor?" he asked.  
Out of the corner of his eye, Sherlock noticed Dean frowning at the word "mobile", his gaze then clearing as Rory pulled out his phone. Rory walked away a couple paces to talk to the Doctor. As he was doing so, Sherlock walked over to Dean. "You know Crowley better than I do, what is he like?" Sherlock asked him softly.  
Dean looked at him for a moment before thinking. "Well, Crowley's a demon, so that generally gives you all you need to know. I hate to give the guy any compliments, but he's cunning, and I wouldn't trust him as far as I could throw him," Dean said slowly. "However, he claims to run Hell with a sense of honesty. I don't even want to know what he did one time to a demon that was cheating people out of their deals. As long as you know what's in your contract, he won't be able stab you in the back, I suppose. Only in that sense. Every other time he's a slippery bastard and if I never had to deal with him again it would be too soon."  
Sherlock nodded, taking in this information. He had thought as much, but he wanted to confirm it with someone who had dealt with the demon much more than he had. There was something suspicious about the demon; something more than the usual distrustful aspect of their character. Crowley knew something he wasn't telling, but Sherlock wasn't able to confirm anything yet. He had a feeling, however, and soon enough the truth would be revealed. Before long, Rory walked over, finished with his phone call to the Doctor. Just as he was walking up to them Sherlock heard the familiar sound of the TARDIS.  
The TARDIS materialized on the edge of the trees. The three hurried over, aware that the telephone box would stand out here in New Jersey on a different level than if they were in London. As soon as the door shut behind Dean, the Doctor was off again, running around the center. Not wasting a minute, the three grabbed hold of anything. It was only a couple of minutes before they stopped, this time somewhere less conspicuous. Now that he had the chance, Sherlock looked to see who was there with them.  
The other group had apparently just finished, judging by the fact that they still had cuts and scrapes from their own job. Although, it was obvious that they had had an easier time of it. There was looks of concern on each of their faces as the group took in the smoke and soot covered bodies of the other three.  
"What happened?" Amy asked, walking quickly over to her husband.  
"Something lit up the place while we were checking it out," Dean said, answering for him.  
"Are you all alright?" John asked, checking his friend over for any harm.  
"Who set it on fire?" Sam asked at the same time.  
Sherlock spoke this time. "We're fine, and it's unclear who set the building on fire. However, it was most likely a demon who didn't want what us to find what we found."  
"What did you find?" the Doctor asked eagerly, his eyes bright with excitement.  
While Dean filled them in, Sherlock looked at his companions. John and Sam both had cuts from their fights, however nothing life threatening. Sam's left arm had been dislocated, however, he had hidden it well from his companions and it was now almost as good as new after he had set it back with the presumable help of John. Amy wasn't harmed, so therefore she most likely had stayed back while the other two had fought the demons. Sherlock felt a sense of relief; though he hadn't known the Ponds and the Doctor for long, he found that he was fond of them, though he would never admit that to them or John.  
After the Doctor had all of his questions answered, it was the other group's turn to answer. After they told of their own adventure, the entire group sat down to consider their new information. "So, why was he wearing nothing but summer clothes this time of year?" Dean asked.  
Sam shrugged. "Best we could come up with is that when he was infected with the sulfur and demon essence, he had some of the heat from Hell in him, raising his body temperature."  
Dean's eyebrows rose. It was a wild theory, but the only one that seemed likely at this point. Judging by the way the two hunters were taking this, Sherlock had judged that they had seen things much weirder. Someday he definitely would have to talk to them about what they do. "So, what are we going to do now?" John asked.  
"Ah, yes, about that," the Doctor leapt up from where he was sitting. "While you all were off having fun, I was monitoring the activities of the demons. Presumably after the fire that Sherlock, Rory, and Dean thankfully survived, the activity moved to one location. And very quickly too, these demons move fast."  
"That's demons for you," Sam said. "Where is the location?" Dean asked.  
"Another small town, this time in Kansas," the Doctor said.  
Dean and Sam shot to their feet. "What town?" they demanded in the same voice.  
The Doctor looked surprised at their reaction. "Lawrence, why?" he started to ask before his voice trailed off. "Ah, yes, that's where..."  
Sherlock looked at them. Though the rest of the group looked confused, he was certain he knew what was going on. Judging by their reaction and the Doctor's, it was obvious that was where the men had been born. Something had happened there, something more than just their birthplace. The two of them had been raised on the road by their father, so whatever had happened there had been terrible by human standards. Going by the look on their faces, Sherlock assumed it had something to do with their mother and her death.  
"What's significant about Lawrence?" Amy asked softly.  
"It's where they were raised and their mother was killed," Sherlock said briskly. The four looked at him, John a look of disapproval on his face. The brothers didn't seem to notice. They were busy in their own thoughts, no doubt remembering the town. "But why would they be in Lawrence?" Sam asked.  
"Crowley told us not to continue the hunt, though he knew that was impossible. Perhaps he thought if he was in Lawrence we wouldn't go after him," Dean suggested.  
Sam shook his head. "No, he had to know if anything it would make us more likely to go there," he said.  
Sherlock stood up himself. "The question isn't why they're there, that's fairly obvious. To get to the two of you. The question is what we are going to do about it. It's most definitely a trap, so shall we risk it and try to stop Crowley or are we going to play it safe and follow his advice?" Sherlock himself knew the answer. No one in this room, himself included, would allow the demon to win.  
"There's no choice," Rory said, speaking what was on all of their minds. "We can't allow him to win."  
There was a moment of silence as the unspoken agreement went through the air. Sam turned to the Doctor. "Let's go home," he said darkly.  
The Doctor nodded and turned back to the center of the TARDIS. "Come on, Sexy, let's do this," he whispered.  
The TARDIS moved, taking them to the end of their journey.


	9. Chapter 9

**Hey guys! So this is the second to last chapter, just the epilogue next week! I'll probably say it again, but I want to thank you all for making my first experience with this a wonderful one! Please review, rate, like, whatever you want this chapter or the story as a whole. Again, thanks so much! **

**And on a more important note….who's excited for the Supernatural premiere tonight? I know I am! Only four more hours where I am, should be soooo awesome! **

**Anyway, enjoy guys!**

**Chapter 9**

Dean stepped out of the TARDIS, blinking to adjust to the light. Lawrence, Kansas. He'd hoped never to be back here. Not since...And then Dean had to come back, along with Sam to investigate a ghost in their old house. That was several years ago, and Dean was sure he'd seen the last of his hometown. Now he was back, once again because of hunting. Back to where it all began.  
Sam stepped next to him, taking in the sight. Sam hadn't been in the town as long as Dean, but it still affected him. The others didn't understand, but this marked the beginning of everything. How their lives would lead to killing the Yellow-Eyed Demon, to eventually releasing Lucifer and then putting him back in the pit. To releasing the Leviathans from Purgatory. Not everything had been bad. They had met friends; Ellen, Jo, Ash, Pamela, Charlie, Garth, and especially Castiel. Though the thought of their lost friends and even those who were still alive didn't comfort Dean.  
It was early in the morning, so no one was out in this small town. That was a relief to Dean. He was worried of who he might see. There was a small chance anyone would recognize him or his brother, but just in case. For a moment Dean wondered if Missouri was still here, but there was no time for a visit. This was the same as a case, and the case always came first.  
"Where in town is the actual activity?" John spoke up.  
"It's at the old house, isn't it?" Sam asked when the Doctor didn't speak for a minute.  
"Makes sense, why stop just at Lawrence? Crowley would go the whole nine yards," Dean said bitterly.  
The Doctor laid a hand on their shoulders. "You don't have to do this," he said softly.  
Dean laughed slightly. "Of course we should. You idiots would get yourselves killed within five minutes without us."  
Even Sherlock smiled slightly at that. Then there was nothing else to be said. The group started to walk down the road, Dean leading the way. Despite all the years he'd spent away, he still seemed to remember the way to the house. "So, what's the plan?" Rory asked.  
"Go in guns a-blazing?" Dean suggested hopefully. When the Doctor glared at him, Dean held up his hands. "It's just an expression, Doc," he said defensively. However, when the Doctor turned away Dean shared a look with Sam.  
_There is no way this is going down without a fight,_ Dean thought. Though Dean respected the Doctor and his attempt for non-violence, it was a bit foolish in this situation. Perhaps it worked with whatever the Doctor normally dealt with, but not with demons. There was just too much evil in them for a peaceful option to be even considered. Dean shifted slightly, his hand brushing his gun hidden in his pocket. The demon knife was in his other pocket, and both he and Sam had salt rounds with them. Hopefully this wouldn't be as bloody as it could be. Dean almost chuckled; of course it would be. When wasn't it?  
It didn't take them long to get to the house. On the outside it seemed peaceful. There was a For Sale sign in the front yard. Clearly the lady and her children who had lived their back in the day had moved out. Dean hoped it was for innocent reasons and nothing had happened to them. Perhaps they'd simply been spooked. All the lights in the house were on, which made it easier and more difficult to sneak in. Easier outside, but once you got into the house, there were barely any shadows to hide in...  
The house was a relatively simple layout, so there wasn't much planning that needed to go into breaking in. The only planning that was needed was how they were going to investigate what was going on. The plan that was decided on was that Dean and John would go forward first and clear the way. Sam, Sherlock, and Rory would be behind them with Amy following close behind them with the Doctor. Before they left the TARDIS, Sam and Dean had given everyone anti-possession charms, warning to never let them out of their own possession. There was nothing else they could prepare for.  
This time waiting for the cover of darkness, Dean and John walked forward slowly. John took the back door while Dean took the front. To his expectation, the front door was unlocked. His gun out, Dean walked in slowly. Years of military training and experience meant that he knew how to enter a house carefully. After checking the corners and determining there was no one there, Dean signaled to the rest of the group. Keeping his weapon up, Dean checked the rest of the rooms. A feeling of uneasiness settled in his stomach when there was no one there at all.  
The only sign that anyone had been there at all was that some of the furniture had been moved to the side, with the exception of a table in the kitchen that had two glasses and a bottle of very fine wine next to them. Dean startled when Sam tapped him on the shoulder. "Where is everyone?" he whispered.  
"No idea, the house is just empty," Dean whispered back.  
Sam sighed. "Trap," they both whispered.  
Sam took out his own gun as they started to move upstairs. Sherlock and Rory continued to search the downstairs. Upstairs led to a single hallway with a couple doors on each side. Swiftly checking each room, Dean and Sam made their way down each hallway. The doors led into a small room, completely bare. The last door, however, was locked. Dean knelt and took out his lock-picking kit. Taking only a few moments, the door was open. Sam went first, carefully checking the corners as Dean went in next to him. The room was bare, the same as the others before them, with the exception of two windows on the opposite wall.  
"What the hell," Dean whispered.  
"Maybe we were wrong the whole time," Sam suggested softly.  
"Not necessarily, boys," came the voice.  
Dean and Sam whirled, instinctively raising their guns. Almost in the same instant they were yanked backwards and hit the wall, the guns dropping out of their hands. "Son of a-" Dean started to say.  
Crowley cut him off. "Now, now, are we really resorting to name-calling now? I think we've known each other for too long for that," he said, smirking slightly.  
"Screw you," Sam growled, straining uselessly against the invisible force.  
Crowley sighed. "Fine, if you want to play that way," he said, walking over to the center of the room. He clapped his hands, and another demon walked in, carrying a bottle of wine. Crowley took it, looked the bottle over, and then nodded approvingly. "Perfect," he said, waving a dismissive hand. The demon turned and left, glaring with completely black eyes at the Winchesters.  
"I thought there was no drinking on the job," Dean said.  
"That's funny, coming from you," Crowley said, pouring some into a glass. He took a sip and placed in on the windowsill. "Just so happens this is a special occasion and I wanted to celebrate the moment."  
Suddenly, Crowley turned swiftly. He whipped his hand, and Sherlock came flying to join the rest of them on the wall. Rory was next, then John. Apparently they had heard the crash. Crowley chuckled, looking at them all. "You all are so predictable," he laughed to himself. Dean sighed inwardly, thinking about their options.  
"So, Crowley," he said. "Now that we're all here, what's going to happen?"  
Crowley held up a finger. "Not true. Not all of you are here. Where are the pretty redhead and that other man, the one with that crazy look about him?"  
Rory spoke up. "They left," he said, meeting Crowley's eyes. Dean sent him a glare, trying to make him understand to stay silent.  
"Is that so," Crowley muttered.  
"They were killed, a couple of your demons a bit back," Sam said.  
"Which doesn't put you any closer to being in our good graces," Dean added.  
"I'm heartbroken," Crowley sneered.  
A faint sound reached Dean's ears. He could have sworn he heard the door being open, front or back he couldn't tell. Hoping no one else noticed it, he turned to look at Sam. There was an identical look of annoyance, frustration, and worry in his eyes.  
"What's the point to all this?" Sherlock asked, his scanning the room, Crowley, everything. Dean could only guess at what he was reading on the King of Hell.  
"What's the fun?" Crowley considered the question for a moment. Then he shrugged. "Bored. Running Hell takes its toll after a while, and doesn't everyone deserve a little vacation? And what better vacation could I have than spending time with my favorite humans?"  
Then Crowley turned back to Dean, his eyes as black as coal. "Now that we're all here, however, what shall we do...?"

Amy shifted on her feet, feeling the chill of the night. Waiting was never her strong suit. She'd been doing a lot of waiting lately, and she wasn't happy about it. The Doctor was leaning against the TARDIS, watching the Winchester's old house with a worried look on his face. Amy knew he was thinking of all the possible ways that the plan could go wrong. She wandered over to him, leaning against the TARDIS at his side.  
"This is going to turn out all right," Amy said, hopefully more reassuringly than she herself felt.  
The Doctor smiled at her. "Yeah, I know," he said. "But I can't help worrying you all, you humans seem to have a habit of getting hurt," he added sadly.  
Amy nudged him, trying to drag his thoughts away from whoever he was thinking about. "Well, we won't if we're careful. And there is no one more careful then the people inside that house, trying to save the world," she said brightly.  
The Doctor straightened abruptly. "Did you see that?" he said urgently.  
Amy turned towards the house, following his pointed finger. "No," she said slowly.  
The Doctor started to walk forward. "Wait, Doctor! What did you see?" Amy called quietly.  
"There was someone at the window," the Doctor explained softly.  
"So? It was probably Sam or Dean," Amy said.  
"No, too short for them, too tall for John," the Doctor said.  
The two of them walked quickly behind the house. "Doctor! We're supposed to wait for Sherlock's signal!" Amy hissed.  
The Doctor waved his hand dismissively. "Someone is very wrong; we're not going to sit around for a signal that might not come!"  
The door wasn't locked, so they got inside the house easily. Amy followed the Doctor as quietly as possible, so as to not alert anyone to their presence. The bare rooms unnerved her, but she tried not to show it. The Doctor whipped out his sonic screwdriver, quickly walking through the rooms. Amy followed him, knowing that he wouldn't find anything. The Doctor followed his screwdriver to the stairs. It glowed brightly, shining when he pointed at the stairs. "They're up there," he whispered.  
The two of them crept quietly, flinching when Amy stepped on a squeaky board. There was a long moment, Amy's heartbeat in her ears. Nothing happened; the voices upstairs continued. They both breathed a sigh of relief. Then the Doctor continued forward, carefully. They crept down the hallway at the top, eventually getting to the last door. The Doctor peered inside, Amy directly under him. What she saw made her breath catch.  
All of their friends were pinned up on the wall by some unseen force. There was a man standing in the center of room, dressed in a fancy suit. Amy recognized him as the man from the forest. "Crowley," she whispered softly into the Doctor's ear.  
The Doctor nodded, his eyes darkening by the minute. Suddenly the Doctor stood up and strode into the room. Amy's eyes widened; she made a move to grab his coat but he darted out of reach. Amy took a step forward, but the Doctor nonchalantly turned around and shook his head. Amy hesitated, wanting to go forward but trusting his instinct. Instead, she darted to the other side, getting a better view and hearing.  
"Doctor! What the hell?" She heard Dean exclaim, a hint of anger in his voice.  
The Doctor walked over to Dean, looking up at him. "Ah, hello, Dean. Well, it seems you're in a predicament, so I came by to see if I can assist you."  
Sam laughed despite himself, shaking his head. "Doc, of all the crazy things you do, this is the craziest."  
Crowley looked at the both of them as if they were insane. "Well, this has been an interesting turn of events. Even your friends return from the dead."  
The Doctor whirled to face him. "Ah, Crowley, yes, I have a bone to pick with you," he said, shaking his finger at him. "One: I don't know where you got the idea that I'm dead, because I'm not, and two: You have harmed my friends. Release them, now."  
Crowley sneered. "And why would I do that?"  
The Doctor looked him straight in the eyes. "Because I asked once, and I don't ask twice," he said quietly.  
Crowley narrowed his eyes. "That worked the first time, you're not going to intimidate me that easily this time," he said.  
"I'm not trying to intimidate you; I'm giving you fair warning," the Doctor said.  
Crowley said nothing, keeping the Doctor's gaze locked with his own. The rest of them held their breath, none of them daring to disturb the two powers in front of them. Amy glanced away, distracted by a flash in her eye. Wondering what flashed, Amy turned to take a closer look at the hallway. Then her eyes fell on something that was indeed a welcome sight.  
The demon knife. It must have fallen out of Dean's pocket at some point. Or perhaps it had purposefully fallen out. Amy picked it up, holding it carefully in her hands. Perhaps Dean had let it fall out on purpose, surely he suspected a trap. The Doctor and Crowley had begun talking again, but Amy tuned them out, thinking her own plan out. Sam and Dean began to argue as well, joining in the conversation.  
Amy crept back to the door. Somehow Dean and Sam were no longer pinned against the wall, but something still held them back. Amy slipped silently into the room, standing next to Sherlock. He looked at her, and she quickly put her fingers on her lips. Sherlock said nothing, just looked at her knowingly. Crowley had gone to the window, looking outside as he spoke to the Doctor.  
"I've heard about you, Doctor," Crowley was saying. "A lot of the poor souls that I've...dealt with down in the Pit, a lot of them were there because of you. Some of them aren't as...forgiving as you might like. Some of them hold quite the grudge."  
The Doctor straightened, adjusting his bow tie out of habit. "Some aspects of the past can't be helped," he said briskly. "Sometimes...sometimes bad things happen to good people."  
"I'm sure they'd love to hear that," Crowley said. "Sadly, they're not in a state in which to listen to attempted reason."  
"Doc, don't listen to him," Dean said earnestly. "Demons lie all the time, they twist anything they can."  
"Aw, Dean, now that's just hurting my feelings," Crowley said. "I'm an honest business man."  
While Crowley was looking at Dean, Amy took the opportunity to slip past Sherlock and next to John, then Rory. Glancing up only a brief moment, Amy smiled at her husband before turning her attention back to the moment at hand. She was almost behind Crowley now. The others had gleaned an idea of her plan and were attempting to draw Crowley in. Sam began talking about something known as Purgatory, a failed mission, while Dean chimed in every once in a while.  
"Enough!" Crowley suddenly roared. "I came here to enjoy myself; I'm not here to be mocked byyou!" His hand whipped dramatically, and the brothers were back on the wall again. This time something was digging into them as well, Amy could see the pain in their expressions.  
The Doctor took one look before advancing furiously on Crowley. "Put them down," he growled.  
"You know what," Crowley said. "I'm getting really tired of you and your demands." He waved his hand again, and this time the Doctor was on the wall.  
Amy strode forward, whisking the knife out and putting it against Crowley's throat. "Let him down now," she hissed in his ear.  
"Well, well, well, what a twist of events," Crowley said, clapping his hands together.  
Amy dug the knife into his neck, drawing blood slightly. "Amy..." the Doctor said worryingly.  
"Don't worry, Doctor, I know what I'm doing; I marred a nurse after all," she called to him.  
Crowley's eyes narrowed. Suddenly, the force against Rory tightened and he cried out in pain. Amy whirled, dragging Crowley with her. He exclaimed softly as the knife dug into his neck. "Watch it, nothing good will happen if you slice off my vocal cords," he exclaimed, rubbing his neck.  
Amy didn't retreat an inch. "Do not even think about touching him," she whispered furiously yet also calmly into his ear.  
Crowley chucked. "I wouldn't dream of it, love," he said, waving his hand. Rory dropped to the ground, coughing.  
"The rest of them," Amy demanded.  
Dean and Sam were watching Crowley with anticipation, as if expecting him to do something that no one else knew about. John was looking at Rory, trying to figure out how badly he was injured. The Doctor and Sherlock were watching Amy with varying degrees of horror, surprise, and reluctant pride.  
"Now, now, so soon? Why don't we have a little talk first," Crowley said, straightening.  
Amy's eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?" she asked carefully.  
"Well, I'm not just going to let everyone go, where's the intrigue in that?" Crowley said simply. "However, if we were to negotiate..."  
"No." This time the Winchesters spoke at the same time. "Don't even think about making a deal," Sam added. "It will never work out," Dean echoed their thoughts.  
"Why are you trying to make a deal? You're the one with a knife to your throat," Amy asked.  
Crowley chucked. "That doesn't make me the weakest person in the room," he said knowingly. In a blink of an eye, Crowley had vanished from where he had been standing and moved to be directly in front of Amy. She jumped, holding the knife up defensively. "Oh, jumpy aren't we," Crowley smirked, enjoying her discomfort and surprise. "Yes, love, I've got a few of my own tricks up my sleeve."  
"No matter, I can still beat you," Amy said.  
"Beat me? I doubt that," Crowley laughed. "Not entirely anyway. However, there is a way to get out of our current problem. You see, you and your friends have already helped me a good deal these past days, so I'm in a generous mood. A very rare thing, mind you," he added, sparing a glare at the Winchesters.  
Dean glared back at him while Sam simply met his gaze without expression. "What do you mean we've helped you?" John spoke up, drawing their attention to him.  
"What? You expect me to reveal my master plan? Who do you think I am, every other villain in the movies?" Crowley rolled his eyes. "Please. Don't insult my intelligence."  
"Well, it's not that hard, now is it," Dean said, smirking.  
Crowley turned to him. "I'd keep that mouth of yours in check; otherwise I might lose my good mood and become angry. And you wouldn't like me when I'm angry," he said snidely.  
Sam snorted, muttering something under his breath. "Shut it, moose," Crowley said, not bothering to look over.  
Crowley turned back to Amy. "All right, let's get back to business. Final offer: I let you and your friends go and you owe me a favor. Simple."  
"A favor?" Amy repeated.  
"Yes, a favor," Crowley said impatiently. "An IOU, if you will. Except you owe me, and I'll collect...just not now."  
Amy hesitated. "Why should I trust you?"  
"You shouldn't. But if you don't accept the deal, I'm going to kill every one of your friends, especially your loving husband," Crowley growled.  
"Amy, don't do it!" Rory said quickly, with the rest chiming in.  
Amy couldn't help it; her gaze flickered to Rory a moment. That moment was enough. "Deal," she said, turning to Crowley.  
A grin danced across Crowley's features for a moment, then was gone. "Perfect. Now, shall we seal the deal?" He stepped toward her.  
The Doctor was between instantly. "She's not selling her soul, there's no need," he said, clearly unhappy with the current events taking place.  
Crowley glared at him for a moment. "Fine," he said, sticking out his hand instead. Amy shook it warily. There was a sudden darkening around the room. "Until next time, boys," Crowley said. They said nothing, simply glared at him. "See you around, Amy Pond." Then he was gone.  
All those held up against the wall dropped abruptly. Dean and Sam remained balanced, as they were used to this. Sherlock had an easy time as well, though Rory and John both grabbed onto the wall for support. Rory instantly walked over to his wife. "Amy, what were you think?" he whispered into her ear, hugging her tightly.  
"I couldn't let him kill you. I don't want to see you die again," she whispered back, fighting back tears. In response, Rory kissed the side of her head and held her tighter than before.  
The Doctor gave them a moment before coming over to hug Amy as well. "You did what you could, I'm proud of you," he whispered.  
Dean and Sam clapped her on the shoulder. Sherlock and John gave her thanks as well. "Do you need anything?" Rory asked her.  
Amy shook her head. "Let's just go home," she said, leaning against his shoulder.  
Rory turned to the rest of the group. "Is there anything else we need to do?" he asked.  
Dean shook his head. "There isn't any more demon creating areas," he said, referring to the scan the Doctor had just done. "There's nothing else happening. We're all good, right?"  
The Doctor nodded, while Sherlock and John agreed. "The only thing that bothers me is what Crowley meant when he said we helped him," Sam said thoughtfully.  
"Probably just meant getting rid of those rebel demon areas," Dean shrugged, though there was an uneasy look in his eyes as well.  
Sherlock was silent, though Amy could tell that he was thinking about something that the rest of them wouldn't have been able to understand, at least not right away. "We should head back," the Doctor said. The rest nodded, and they all headed outside the house to the waiting TARDIS.  
Before they left the house, Sam and Dean did a check of the house, making sure nothing was left behind. There wasn't much in the house to begin with, therefore there wasn't much left over. Dean took out his knife and quickly carved a demon trap inside all the doors. "Just in case," he muttered, pocketing the knife. Amy shared his sentiment; if something evil had come into her home, she'd want to make sure it couldn't again, even if she wasn't there. Sherlock went on his own for a moment, gathering anything he still required. The rest of them headed outside, the sudden weariness and fatigue coming on them in a blink of an eye. Then it was time to head back to the TARDIS for the trip home.  
Before they entered, Dean and Sam turned back to observe their childhood-what there was of it-home one last time. John went to stand by them, and they all looked at the house for what felt like a long time but were merely several moments. Then John put his hands on their shoulders and they all turned and went inside the TARDIS. Their journey was finally at an end.


	10. Chapter 10

**Hiya everyone! I reached over a thousand views yesterday, and that meant a lot to me, so I decided that as a reward I'd give you the last chapter early! Please enjoy and tell me what you think! There is an idea for a sequel, so let me know if you think I should continue this particular storyline! You guys have been wonderful even if you just looked at my story once, it's more than I could have ever predicted. I love you all and thank you from the bottom of my heart!**

**Chapter 10**

John stepped out of the TARDIS back into 221B. He breathed in the familiar smell of Mrs. Hudson's cooking from downstairs, whatever experiment Sherlock had going on at the moment. The familiar sight of their slightly messy apartment, the skull and the moose on the wall. The familiar senses brought a smile to his face. No matter how long or short they were away, the sight of this room always comforted him. The others followed John out of the TARDIS for the farewells.  
"Wow," Dean whistled as he walked out. "You guys have quite the decor here."  
Sherlock glanced at him. "There's nothing wrong with the moose," he said briskly.  
"Not even if it's wearing headphones," Sam agreed.  
The brothers went to quickly look through the apartment. There were exclamations over the fingers in the refrigerator, but luckily there wasn't anything that was too odd. John laughed at their expressions; he had grown more or less used to Sherlock and the way he lived. The laughter was contagious and soon all of them were laughing; even Sherlock was smiling. Then it was time for good-byes.  
"You take care of yourself, John," Dean said, clapping him on the shoulder.  
"See you around," Sam said, shaking his hand. John bid them both farewell, then they moved on to Sherlock.  
"Don't get too carried away here," Dean said, smiling slightly as he shook Sherlock's hand.  
"It was a pleasure," Sam said, once again shaking Sherlock's hand. The two brothers then walked to the TARDIS. Before entering, they turned and waved slightly, smiling, before walking inside. Then it was Amy and Rory's turn.  
John turned to see a blur of red flashing towards him as Amy came rushing towards him. "Whoa, whoa," he said, laughing slightly. Amy laughed too, giving him a hug. "I'll miss you," she said, her eyes watering slightly.  
John gave her another hug before turning to Rory. He also gave him a hug, clapping him on the back. "Take care of her," he whispered. "And make sure that you two stop by again soon," he said, shaking his finger at the pair of them.  
They nodded, grinning, before going to say their good-bye's to Sherlock. Amy gave him a hug as well, despite his protesting. Rory shook his hand, and then they went to join the Winchesters in the TARDIS. The Doctor gave Sherlock a hug as well, ignoring the man's sigh of annoyance. Then the Doctor walked over to John. "Thank you, John Watson," he said, smiling.  
John raised his eyebrows. "For what?" he said.  
"For everything," the Doctor said, grabbing him in an embrace as well. John didn't have time to ponder what he meant before the Doctor was off, bounding towards his TARDIS. "I'll see you two around," he said, winking, before closing the door. John raised a hand in farewell as the TARDIS started to fade out of existence.

Sam nearly crashed into the Impala, instead almost falling to his knees. "Whoa," he exclaimed, regaining his balance. "Ah, Baby!" Dean exclaimed, hurrying over to investigate the car. "I've missed you," he murmured, running his hands over the roof. Sam rolled his eyes while the Doctor chuckled behind him. Sam turned to the Doctor. "Hey, Doc, thanks," he said.  
The Doctor raised his eyebrows. "For what?" he said, chucking slightly to himself for a reason Sam didn't understand.  
Sam shrugged. "For coming back," he said. "And all of your help, I'm sure it wasn't easy."  
The Doctor chuckled again. "Don't worry, I always come back for my friends, not matter what their past is." He clapped Sam on the shoulder, having to reach a bit as Sam was much taller than him.  
"See you around, Doctor," Sam said, returning the gesture.  
Dean walked over, after having finished his reunion. Sam moved aside to let his brother speak to the Doctor. "Hey, Doc, thanks for the adventure. Certainly a break from the normal freaky things," Dean said brightly, shaking the Doctor's hand.  
"Anytime, Dean, anytime," the Doctor said, smiling.  
"Stop by anytime," Sam added.  
The Doctor pointed at them. "You can count on it," he said brightly, before waving and standing back to let the Ponds through.  
Amy walked over and gave each of the brothers an embrace. "Stay safe," she said, hugging them tightly. "You too," Sam whispered.  
"Don't worry about us, we'll be fine," Dean said, breaking away gently.  
Amy nodded, smiling, as Rory walked over and shook their hands. "Let's hope to see each other again," he said, nodding.  
"Don't worry, you will," Sam promised.  
Rory and Amy walked back to the TARDIS, waving good-bye. The Winchesters watched as the TARDIS disappeared. "At least it's a better sight than the last time," Dean observed.  
Sam chuckled slightly before heading back to the Impala. "Ready, Dean?" he called.  
Dean walked over and climbed into the driver's seat. "Hell yes," he said.

Rory walked over to the console. "Another successful adventure," he noted.  
"Indeed it was!" the Doctor exclaimed. "We've got ourselves two new friends and a whole new aspect of life previously unknown!"  
Amy laughed, brushing her back off the side of her face. Rory watched her for a moment, trying to ignore the uneasy feeling he had whenever he thought of the deal she had made. Now was not the time for dwelling on it. Rory strode over and put his arm around her, allowing her to lean against him. "So, where to now, Doctor?" he asked brightly.  
"Now, I'm going to look into a couple things. You guys are going to go relax for a night, we've all earned that," he said.

Amy leaned against Rory, laughing along with her two best friends. It had been one of the more tiring adventures indeed. She ran her hand down Rory's arm and grabbed his hand. He squeezed it affectionately. Amy then turned to the Doctor. "What are you going to do then, Doctor? The last time you tried to relax...it didn't go well," she said, remembering him in their own home trying to deal with normal time.  
The other two shared in her amusement, lost for a minute in memories. "Well," Amy began. "Since we've the chance, we're going to head off and relax."  
The Doctor looked surprised, though not as surprised as Rory as she dragged him off. "Come along, Rory!" she shouted as she did so.  
Amy heard the sound of chuckling from the console as she left. Then she turned her focus to her husband and smiled, for a moment forgetting the price that someday she would have to pay, whatever that price may be.

Sherlock stood for a moment, watching as John moved about the apartment. The doctor looked distracted, lost in thoughts about their previous adventure as well as what needed to be done before tomorrow. Sherlock himself didn't need to ponder about what happened. There was nothing to wonder about, nothing that needed to be thought about, at least concerning the past. Simply the matter of what was going to happen in the future.  
Sherlock moved and took his seat, his mind whirling. Amy Pond had made a deal with the King of Hell. However, she hadn't sold her soul, according to the Doctor, and neither Sam nor Dean had contradicted him. So what would Crowley want...perhaps leverage, perhaps help in the future, probably a little security. Maybe something to get close to the Doctor, as Amy was definitely important to him.  
But there was something else, something that was bothering Sherlock. He couldn't put his finger on it, but it seemed that Crowley them go rather easily after having them all in a position where he could make sure they wouldn't never interfere again. So why spare them? Why simply make a deal? There was something Crowley was hiding, some sort of ulterior motive, but what?  
Sherlock was distracted from his thoughts by a series of knocks and then the doorbell ringing downstairs. He smiled. "Client," he muttered to himself. Quickly he rose and called John to join him in the living area. Hoping it was a seven, Sherlock put on an air of disinterest and waited for Mrs. Hudson to knock. And knock she did, without fail. "Sherlock, dear, someone's here to see you," she said softly.  
"Very well, Mrs. Hudson," Sherlock said briskly. John rolled his eyes slightly, settling down in his chair with his laptop on his lap.  
The man walked in, glancing about nervously. Sherlock looked him up and down once, then felt excitement rising as he realized this was indeed over a 7. "Yes, sit down and then tell us what you're here for," he said, sitting back in anticipation.

The Doctor watched his friends dart away, chucking to himself. _Good,_ he thought._ They need a break. _He probably needed a small break too, the Doctor admitted. After all, he was only a Timelord. But there were other matters to attend to. The Doctor set about to set up a monitor for any demonic activity at all, just in case. Then the Doctor left the console.  
He walked the halls of the TARDIS he knew so well. As he did so, the Doctor ran a hand along the walls. "Ah, Sexy," he said. "At least I know exactly who you are." The TARDIS hummed cheerfully in response. Soon, the Doctor was at the library. Going through the books and other materials, the Doctor soon found what he was looking for. Grabbing a candle and a couple more books, the Doctor set up an area in which he could bury himself in research for a while. Normally he wouldn't go this far, but this was important.  
The Doctor pulled up a chair and set about to find out everything he could about demons, current and old, and most importantly: deals.

Dean hummed along to the music, cheerful after a good day's adventure. Though he was likely to be onset with fatigue and exhaustion, right now he was feeling the buzz he got after any hunt. Dean glanced in the rear view and jumped, nearly swerving the car too far to the left. Castiel was sitting in the back seat, watching him interestedly.  
"Cas, seriously?" he said. "No warning?"  
Sam looked behind him, an expression of surprise on his face. "Hey, what's up?" he asked.  
Castiel looked at him seriously. "I was making sure you two were all right from your previous adventure through time and space," he said gruffly.  
"Yep, we're peachy," Dean said. Then he frowned, looking at the angel. "You don't look so good, what have you been up to?"  
Cas hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "Just been investigating the angel tablet, that is all," he said eventually.  
"Uh-huh, how's that working out?" Dean asked.  
"Not as well as I would have liked," Cas admitted.  
"We got you," Sam said.  
Castiel frowned slightly. "Thank you, I think," he said slowly.  
Dean chuckled at the expression on his face. "Hey, why don't you spend the night with us. We'll go out, celebrate life, enjoy ourselves for one night?" he suggested, reclining in his seat at the thought. Sam glanced at him in surprise; a look that Dean ignored.  
Castiel tilted his head. "I'm not sure if that is wise in our current predicament," he said slowly.  
"Ah, who cares? It'll be fun," Dean said.  
"It's okay, Cas, everyone needs a break every once in a while. You'll get back on the investigation and it'll be fine," Sam said.  
Dean glanced at him gratefully. Cas looked at the both of them, then smiled. "Yes, I'd like that," he said.  
"Good," Dean said, revving the engine. "You wouldn't have had much choice, really."  
He heard Sam chucking as they picked up speed, going a bit more than was legal. Dean slowed down just enough to not get into any legal trouble-God knows that they didn't need that right now-but fast enough to still enjoy the ride. Dean glanced in the mirror again, enjoying the look of surprise on the angel's face. _This is what the good life is,_ Dean thought, reclining back.  
Dean, Sam, and Cas listened to the sound of classic rock blaring through the stereo with the wind whipping through the car. "Where are we going?" Castiel asked, shouting to make himself heard.  
Dean smiled. "Well, my friend," he replied. "That's for the night to decide." 


End file.
